


Kisaragi Station

by ShotaAnarchist



Series: A Dream That Never Ends [1]
Category: Persona 5, Persona 5 Royal
Genre: Akechi Goro Needs a Hug, Akechi Goro Redemption, Akechi Goro-centric, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Blood and Gore, Body Horror, Character Study, Dreams and Nightmares, Gen, Implied Relationships, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Not Beta Read, Persona 5: The Royal Spoilers, Psychological Horror, Sort of a sickfic??, Suicidal Thoughts, Urban Legends, not really - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-30
Updated: 2021-01-30
Packaged: 2021-03-16 16:22:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 29,741
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28709646
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShotaAnarchist/pseuds/ShotaAnarchist
Summary: The disappearing railroads, the train that was supposed to turn.Empty music that can't be heard.Even, the letters begin to dance in the station;today, from there, a person came out.Akechi Goro is awake. Akechi Goro is alive.Kurusu Akira is not.After Akechi Goro assainates the one person that understood him, he falls into a deep and dark depression that tears him apart. But every single night, he experiences a dream about a train station where he meets the thieves one by one. He can't read the kanji of what it's called or if this place is even real, but he knows one thing;This will not deter him from his goal.
Relationships: Akechi Goro & Phantom Thieves of Hearts
Series: A Dream That Never Ends [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2104554
Comments: 5
Kudos: 13
Collections: Goro Big Bang 2020





	Kisaragi Station

**Author's Note:**

> WOOOO okay so I've been working on this baby for some time now. It's based on the Japanese urban legend of Kisaragi Station. While the legend itself inspired it, [this song](https://youtu.be/UxM5UgpXYM4) contributed a lot to what I was trying to convey. Did I do a good job at it?? I HAVE NO IDEA!!
> 
> Honestly the real saviors are my partners [Neo](https://twitter.com/AkechiDev/status/1355442842638839810?s=19) and [Ky!](https://twitter.com/_cowsnack_/status/1355469964946378754?s=19)
> 
> Give thanks to them for making such beautiful pieces of art!

When Akechi first walked down that hall, he heard and felt everything. The ringing in his ears, the drumming of his heart, the uncomfortable weight of a silencer pressing against his shirt… He had goosebumps crawling up every part of his body, but nobody would notice it underneath his leather gloves and tan peacoat.

When he walked into the room, it was him. Kurusu Akira. Attic trash, despicable human being, _disgusting child, useless garbage._ He was everything he hated and more. The way he flaunted himself, the way he didn't have to do anything to get friends, to live his life like nothing happened. It was complete bullshit.

The feeling of grabbing onto the guard's gun and quickly twisting on the silencer, shooting him right in his heart. He looked at the guard with zero remorse, his head looking over to Kurusu with wide eyes. Akechi was bitter, a sour and unsavory voice slipping out. No more glitter and TV lights. It was just him… and a dead man.

"I owe you for all of this… Thanks," Akechi told him. "That's right. You and your little friends were vital to our plan. And now, it will be complete."

"Your popularity truly was quite stunning. That just made you all the more worthwhile…" Akechi admitted to him. Kurusu just sat there, hands on the table as he said nothing. What was this, some sort of gimmick? Was he trying to act strong? How foolish.

He adjusted his glove and gave Kurusu that same smile he had been giving to people the entire year. "Have you finally pieced it all together?" Kurusu still said nothing as Akechi put his gun right on the temple of his head, pressing into the lump of bangs covering it. Kurusu's pale skin was covered in bruises and the small holes from the syringes laying across the ground. It was _invigorating._

"Case closed, this is how your justice ends." Akechi grinned, relishing in the look of Kurusu's eyes as he emptied the bullet into his skull.

Blood pooled down his face, coating his cheeks and eyelids. His eyes twitched as he finally lost balance, his head slamming onto the metal table in front of him, blood splattering all over it. It was like a piece of art, a true pattern of beauty and gore.

Akechi quietly and calmly twisted off the silencer on the pistol and shoved it back into his peacoat. He gently put the gun into Akira's hand and stepped back, taking a gander at his work. He chuckled to himself before leaving for the door.

That was the first in-person job he had been assigned by Shido. Every other time he'd always be doing dirty work in the Metaverse, but this time it was different. Akechi always had the gun in his case, but it felt different this time. The weight, the feeling of it rubbing against his leather gloves… A real murder, a real assassination.

It felt almost… _disgusting._ Just a second he was enjoying this, but now he felt this floaty feeling in the pit of his stomach that left him confused and angry. It almost felt like he was dreaming… He didn't realize it until after he finished his call on the phone with Shido that he was shaking. He could feel the blood staining his gloves and onto his palms, despite the fact there wasn't any to begin with. That sinking feeling got even _worse_ as time went on.

As soon as Akechi left that building, the crime scene where he had killed the leader of the Phantom Thieves, the screen had flashed that Akira had committed suicide. Akechi looked up at the big screen hanging above the streets of Tokyo. His eyes were pinned on it for such a long time, the light of the screen shining down on his clothing.

He didn't go outside for days.

As soon as he murdered Akira, he holed himself up inside of his shitty apartment with a dingy ass black hoodie, sweatpants, and a beanie covering his mangled hair. He didn't feel like meeting anyone because he had never felt this empty and hollow before.

Akechi took pride in his appearance. It was the one thing that people consistently praised him about throughout his life. He always wore high-quality vests, sweaters, white button-downs, and leather shoes. Now he didn't even want to bother putting on something of that caliber.

His apartment was rather flat and boring; old and partially ripped up tatami as flooring with dull white walls covered the place from head to toe besides the bathroom and kitchen. Besides that, there was only one room to be used for everything. Sleeping, eating, studying, doing work… Akechi didn't have much aside from a fridge that he stocked with convenience store food, a futon, a closet, and a few pots and pans he hadn't touched in a year. When Akechi woke up one day after doing anything _but_ being productive, he checked his fridge to see that it was almost empty.

 _"Cup ramen is also running out… dammit. I'm going to have to make a food run…"_ Akechi thought as he bit onto his lip. He looked at the sad and shaggy clock on the wall. It was around 10 PM. He had enough time to get something from the convenience store…

Maybe it would also be nice to also take a train out and have a breath of fresh air. There was a shop right around the corner, but he really needed to sort these inconvenient feelings out before doing anything.

So he left with the clothes he had on, slipped on a white disposable face mask over his nose, and stepped outside. His keys jangled in his hands. Metal, it was cold and sudden. Just like the feeling of—

Akechi shook his head. _No,_ don't even think about it. Just continue with your life. You did what you had to do and you can't change what had happened. Don't live with any regrets because you shouldn't have any. You chose this path, so stop feeling pity for yourself.

You can't change a _dead man's_ life.

He waited for the trains to come by. Outside of rush hour where trains come by every three minutes or so; they come around every ten. When he finally caught the train, he hopped onto one and sat down on the slowly emptying trains. Very few people were around, aside from extremely drunk people (that were definitely suffering from a Shibuya meltdown…) and people coming from the late-night shift at work. And then there was Akechi; sweet Akechi slouching over in his seat and almost falling asleep.

He shook his head rapidly, trying to stay awake and not fall asleep on the damn _train_ of all places. When he finally arrived at a place that seemed good enough, he raided a convenience store and left as soon as he paid.

There were only a few people on the train now. As he sat and pondered about what he'll eat from the bag first, the number of people kept deteriorating and deteriorating until he was the only one left in the cabin.

It was getting dark with only the lights of the tunnels flashing in through the windows as Akechi slumped into his seat. His eyelids were falling, falling, _and_ _falling…_

He was sleeping. Maybe? His eyes shot open a few seconds later only to see that everything was the same, but it felt different than usual. The place looked darker and the lights flashing in from the tunnel were no longer there. It was just plain darkness, unsettling _darkness._ Akechi froze. What? _What?_ What just happened?

Eerie was a gross understatement. It was so quiet he could hear the creaking of the rails beneath him, feel the vibrations of the cart under him, and the industrial smell of the cabin. He slowly sat up, cautiously and wary. Everything felt _wrong._

Where did his bag go? He just had it, there's no way somebody could have stolen it. Before he went to bed, everyone in the cabin was sleeping or just wasn't paying attention. It didn't make sense… but now it was empty.

It was just himself in an empty and dark train cabin. It was still moving, the hum underneath his shoes and the rattling of the straps hanging up from the ceiling was proof of it. Akechi walked up and down the cabin he was in before psyching himself up.

He peered into the cabin behind the one he was currently in briefly. He pressed his face onto the glass to see… nobody. No one was there. Akechi clicked his tongue and backed away from the window, making his way to the other side. He then checked into the one in front, but the same results occurred.

There was no way he was alone. Somebody had to be driving the train or else this train wouldn't be moving an inch. He pushed all of the doors open and continued forward, going through cabin after cabin. Nothing. Nothing, nothing, nothing, nothing, _nothing_ . He counted each and every one of them. Five, ten, twenty, twenty-eight, _thirty-six…_

Akechi was gasping and he tore off his facemask, tossing it onto the ground in a fit of mania. Sweat hurled down his forehead, desperate and annoyed. There shouldn't be this many— When he got onto the train he entered onto the fifth cart from the driving area, so why were there _thirty-six_ of them? At most, a train had _sixteen!_

It looked like it was going to continue forever. Akechi cleared his throat and sat down on one of the seats, his face in his hands as he slumped over himself. And then he jolted up in sudden awe. Was this… Was this the Metaverse?

No, he shook his head. If this was the Metaverse he'd be in his outfit and he'd have access to all of his equipment. The only way to check was…

Akechi quickly and clumsily pulled his phone out. It was dead, frozen, and unmoving. He tried tapping every single button he could on the damned thing but nothing worked. It was almost fully charged when he left, why was it not working? He grits his teeth out of frustration and tossed this phone across the cabin, shattering it into pieces when it impacted. Nothing here was going to work…

"What the hell is going on here…" Akechi swore to himself. The situation was getting worse and _worse._ Was this punishment for causing multiple psychotic breakdowns on train conductors? Is this their comeback and revenge from the grave? "Just fucking end me at this point…"

There was no sense of time. Everything was dark, his phone didn't work, and even when he tried to count the seconds that went by his mind couldn't focus on anything. Akechi yelled in frustration, carding his fingers through his messy hair as he threw off his beanie straight onto the floor.

He quickly bolted up and kept walking through the cabins. Forty, forty-seven, fifty, _fifty-four_ —

He found it. The conductor's cabin. Akechi screamed in relief and he tried to enter into it, only for the door not to budge. "Are you fucking kidding me?"

Akechi pressed his face up against the glass window, his eyes looking into it to see… Nothing. Nobody was driving the train. The lever inside was pushed forward with nobody to slow it down or stop it.

Akechi growled, starting to try and tear down the door. He went all the way to the back of the cabin and ran towards the door, slamming his shoulder into it. It didn't budge at all and he was left with a sore, achy shoulder. Akechi put his back onto the door and slumped down onto the floor, completely at a loss for what to do.

 _"I don't know where I am, I don't know where the people are, I don't know where I'm going, and I don't know how to get out."_ Akechi thought to himself. _"Is this my punishment? Am I finally getting punished for all of my crimes?"_

And then all of the lights turned off on the train. Akechi flinched and curled in on himself, trying to make his eyes get used to the sudden change in lighting so he might be able to see in the dark. He placed his hands on the wall and slowly lifted himself, only to get knocked down to the ground again when the train jolted suddenly. It seems the train had… _stopped._

But it was dark. He heard a voice come out scrambled and mixed up.

"W-we have 'ave ave 'ave— arrived at -------- station. -------- station,"  the voice called out. What station? What station was this at? What sort of cursed and unholy fucking place was he stopping at?  "The doors on your right will be opening. PleeeaaaseEAAA—" 

The voice cut out after dragging and glitching on its words. Within the darkness, he heard a _whoosh_ sound out. When he heard it, a large white window of light shined down into the train station. He could see all of the dust particles flying in the air as he walked into the light. The dust flew away from him as he got closer, the light illuminating the seats and train straps hanging from above.

 _"It's either I stay on this fucking train or leave. Do or die."_ Akechi breathed and stepped through the doors, making sure that he didn't step into the small space between the door and the platform.

As soon as he walked out, the doors closed behind him harshly. Akechi flinched, flicking his head back over to the dingy and dirty train as the same fucked up and scratchy voice played out,  "T-thank you for ri-ri-riding,"  the voice spoke. Akechi blinked many times, looking at the small station he stopped at. It was… It was a dead end.

It was a cut-out box in the tunnel walls with a wooden platform. There were two benches; one on the far right and far left respectively with a wooden overhang over the entire station that almost touched the top of the rocky ceiling. There was also a metal lamp over to the left side. It looked pretty old, something you would see in a fantasy movie. On the front of the overhang was kanji that he couldn't decipher. It was shifting. Mizu Station? No— _Kakuriyo?_ The kanji kept fading in and out to different things and he couldn't tell what it was saying.

Akechi grimaced and pried at the entire station. He tried pulling up the floorboards and looking at the cracks of the benches, but there were only dust bunnies and the smell of old paper. He did, however, find small wooden containers underneath the benches. Inside one of the containers was an unused bright orange lighter left and the other was a box of cigarettes with a single stick missing from it. Akechi cleared his throat and quietly pocketed it…

Akechi sat down on one of the benches and waited. There was nothing he could do but wait. Well, that wasn't _entirely_ true. Akechi tried sleeping since he theorized that's how he got here originally. However, every single time he closed his eyes and started feeling the numb and comforting feeling of sleep, his eyes would shoot back open. It wouldn't let him _sleep._

He kept trying even though he knew it was useless. He kept opening and closing his eyes. Akechi kept them shut at one point and they only shot back open once—

A train sped right in front of him, the winds blowing his hair everywhere. As soon as it appeared, it was gone.

Akechi looked over at the railroad with wide eyes, his hair sticking out in odd places as he swallowed his saliva. Yeah, he's glad he decided to not walk along the tracks… He was shaking like an addict, but he didn't know why. Everything was blending together. How long had it been since he got here? Wait, how long has it been since he's exited the station?

Nothing. He couldn't recall _anything._ Akechi grit his teeth and ground them against each other. He was sweating, expecting the worst. Where… Where was this place? Is he going to die here?

But should it even matter at that point? Whether he was dead or alive? There was nothing in this hellscape other than himself with time passing. He could hear the sounds of a railroad crossing alarm, his mind floating away at every single instance. Time had passed by, but he didn't know how much.

Until it didn't matter. The next time the train passed, it _stopped._ It actually stopped. Outside of the train, he heard the same thing echo outside. The same fucked up voice that made him more pissed off than he should be, but he was. Akechi stood on, waiting on edge to see who would come out. The door slid open, that familiar _whoosh_ that the Tokyo metro system. Akechi clenched his fists together, gnawing on his lip as he glared at the gaping hole inside of the train. He saw a shadow inside, their shoes crunching on something on the inside before lethargically stepping outside. His heart rate increased five times the normal rate a human should have.

 _"Oh shit oh shit oh shit oh shit—"_ Akechi repeated senselessly in his mind. When they finally stepped out, Akechi looked at them wide-eyed. His heart rate slowed immediately and he was almost… _disappointed?_ Akechi laughed a bit to himself before speaking up.

"…Sakamoto Ryuji?" Akechi voiced in surprise. Sakamoto looked equally surprised, staring at him with large eyebags overshadowing his face. It seems he went through the same pain that he did, except that from the looks of the pieces of shattered glass covering the floor, he actually managed to break into the driver's room.

"…Akechi Goro? What the hell?" Sakamoto muttered, exiting out of the doorway in a single step as soon as he did so, the door behind him snapped and Sakamoto yelped at the sudden gust of wind clapping against his back. As soon as the door closed, it sped off at lightning speed.

Sakamoto fell to the ground, his palms digging into the wooden platform. His hair was atrocious, strands poking out at every opportunity before he looked back over to Akechi with fear and hatred in his eyes. It matched his outrageous pajamas; a bright yellow tank-top and black pants.

"…Why the hell're you here? Wait, didja make this happen?! Are you planning to kill us off one by one?!" Sakamoto growled, pushing himself off of the ground. Akechi groaned, dragging his hand down his face in exhaustion. Great, more annoying things to deal with.

"If I really did do that, I would be here ready to _kill you._ I have my home clothing on, do you think I'd kill you in this state? You're more of an idiot than I thought," he said, his voice dripping venom. Sakamoto crossed his arms.

"Of course you'd say that, Akechi… You're as cruel as all of the other rotten adults." Sakamoto hissed. Akechi chuckled at his childish way of thinking.

"Really… Everything for you is just black and white. You have zero shades of grey in your mentality, it's laughable. Of course somebody like you is that thickheaded."

"Say that to me again you _bastard!"_ Sakamoto screamed, running up to Akechi frighteningly. Akechi quickly bolted up from his seat and used his arms to protect himself, but Sakamoto had already grabbed him by his collar and tossed him onto the ground.

"You're sayin' that you're some kinda hero of justice?!" Sakamoto yelled at him, standing above him. Akechi slowly pushed himself off the floor with rage in his eyes. His hands were scratched against the ground, small scratches littered his palms. His clothing was scuffed, but more importantly, he hated being looked down on. This damn _brat…_ "Things stopped bein' black and white when you _murdered_ Akira!"

"Shut the hell up you fucking piece of shit…" Akechi growled, staggering onto his feet, small bits of blood falling from his injured hands. It felt nice to let his voice out at full volume after playing the good guy for such a long time. This was just a dream… Yeah, this is just a dream. He didn't have to play pretend if it's all fake, especially in front of somebody who already knows of his true motives. Both of them were tired, scared, and had zero concept of time. But most importantly, they were _angry._ "You wouldn't understand anything, especially because you're brain dead! I've been working up to this moment for _years!_ What the hell would you know?!"

Akechi ran over to Sakamoto, his fist pulled back. He quickly slammed it into the blonde's jaw, sending him flying against the platform. Tired, angry, pissed. _Angry. Angry angry angry angry aNGRY—_

 _"YOU SON OF A BITCH!"_ Sakamoto raged, quickly lifting himself off the ground before charging his entire weight into Akechi. Akechi grunted, feeling as Sakamoto slammed into him. Akechi growled, turning it louder and louder as he dug his fingernails into his clothing and tossed him against the ground, _hard._ He could hear the slam against the wood loud and clear.

Sakamoto was stronger than he thought. When the boy got up, Sakamoto came running at him with insane amounts of speed. When Akechi realized he was fucked, he tried to spin his body around and protect himself with his arms, but he wasn't fast enough.

Sakamoto punched him right in the face. He could feel the bones in his nose collapse when his body scratched up against the flooring. His nose was bleeding profusely and he slowly rose from the ground. When he looked up, he saw that cocky grin that was trademarked for the Phantom Thieves. Confident in what they do; wanting to win at anything no matter what it was. Just like him. _Just like Kurusu._

Nails, teeth, fists, feet. Akechi remembered raising his leg up high and slamming into his face with as much strength and speed he could muster. It was bloody and rough. He remembered biting into Sakamoto's arm, he remembered Sakamoto holding him down and relentlessly throwing punch after punch, and he remembered turning the tables and choking him.

Akechu had straddled Sakamoto and put his hands around his necks. He was breathing heavily, drops of blood from his nose splattering onto Sakamoto's clothing. He wasn't wearing anything special, a simple hoodie and some shorts, but it didn't look so simple anymore. It was smothered in dirt; bloodied and ripped in some parts. Sakamoto was also bleeding, his lip busted with scratch marks over his face. They were insane, they really were.

Akechi started to squeeze down on Sakamoto's neck. The instinct to live went on full throttle as he jolted around and screamed, trying to pry himself out of Akechi's hold. Akechi spat in his face, blood and agony combining into one.

"WHAT THE HELL WOULD YOU EVEN KNOW ABOUT ME?! DO YOU EVEN KNOW WHY I DO THIS?! IT'S NOT LIKE I'M HAPPY WITH WHAT I DO, EITHER!" Akechi yelled, pressing harder and harder as Sakamoto started to tear up, digging his fingers into Akechi's wrists, but he didn't budge. "I wanted to be happy, too! I wanted to be a hero of justice just like everyone else in this damn world! But… It's a stupid fucking dream. That justice that I dreamed of as a child doesn't exist… it's all _fake."_

Akechi slowly unwrapped his hands from Sakamoto's neck, bright red handprints surrounding the flesh. He could see it starting to turn ugly shades of purple, blue, and yellow. Sakamoto coughed roughly. It sounded like he had swallowed pebbles. Akechi quickly un-straddled Sakamoto and laid down off to the side of him as the boy huddled in on himself, struggling for the air he desperately needed.

Akechi was sweating. Not only that, but he was tired.

"I wanted to be just, but it wasn't meant to be. None of this should matter since this is all just a dream… Haha… I can't believe I'm fighting you in my dreams…" Akechi scoffed pathetically. Sakamoto stayed silent and laid down on the ground. They felt better after getting out all of their hatred for each other. Everything that they had been bottling up had finally exploded. "…I never wanted to be like this, but I realized it too late. Maybe I could've been a hero of justice like my childish mind told me, but it's just an imagination. _You can't change the past."_

"M-maybe—" Sakamoto cleared his throat, his voice still grainy and rough on the ears. "Maybe you _can_ be that hero of justice…. T-the only option, _ack—_ i-is to move forward from all of the things you've done wrong and make up for it."

"Move _forward?_ For what reason? I have nothing I should forward look to. I have nothing after this."

The station fell into silence. Sakamoto took a rough and shaky breath. They were both tired, just two kids who had a fight looking to find some comfort. But why were they searching for comfort with each other? They just beat the living shit out of themselves so why… Why did it all feel so _right?_ Sakamoto finally spoke through the awkward air.

"I felt the same way at one point," Sakamoto said to him. Akechi turned his head over to look at the face that was speaking to him. Hah, damn… He messed his face up. But then again, the pain he caused back to him was mutual. "After my dad up and left me and my ma, I didn't know what to do. We were both lost… and scared. My dad wasn't the best person. He used to always drink, and when he got mad, he would hit my ma. Or even me."

"After he was gone, we didn't know what to do with our lives. He… He left a lot of scars. Bastard took away everything from us… My ma worked every single day to support us, but I felt like I was becoming just like my dad every single day." Sakamoto spilled his heart out for him. Akechi looked at him with wide eyes. "I've never done well in school. Never have, never will. I've always talked loud, cussed a lot, got angry easily… But then… Then I discovered track and field! Finally, somethin' I was good at! I felt useful and for the first time in a while! And then… But then…"

"Kamoshida happened." Akechi finished for him. Sakamoto stayed silent before wincing and yelling out in frustration.

"I was… I was so _pissed!_ Not only did he break my damn leg, but he also ruined my chances at a scholarship! I… I could've helped my ma with that. She wouldn't have to work so many shifts for me…" Sakamoto groaned. He hated what had happened to him. The feeling of uselessness, the feeling of not being in power. The same feeling that his father gave him every single time he came home from school. A dark apartment that was mostly empty. Decrepit, sad, lonely, _depressing._

Sakamoto often found his mother sobbing on the floor in a ball of her hair, his father passed out on the couch with the television still running. Beer bottles of all shapes and sizes with stains everywhere were scattered about the living room. All of the windows were shut closed, the only light from the television illuminated the room. And Sakamoto closed the door shut, welcome to nobody.

"But now…" Sakamoto started saying, "Now I have them. Akira, Ann, Yusuke, Makoto, Morgana, Futaba, Haru… They saved me from that hole. Sure, I won't get what I had back. But… I hafta continue."

"…I don't understand you and your little group. Friends? Teammates? What kind of trash is that…" Akechi scoffed. "Do you just pour out all of your feelings like that with the rest of your friends?"

"…No. No, I don't. I told you ‘cause… I thought maybe that you'd relate."

Akechi stared at him, wide eyes and shocked pupils. A burst of soft laughter devolved into insanity as Akechi pressed out the words from his lips. "Ahahah! Holy shit; we _are_ alike, aren't we? We're both shitty naive kids that can't handle the world for what it is. I know who's causing trouble for me and I _despise_ him. That's why… That's why I can't stop right now. I'm so close to reaching my goal… To watch him _fall…"_ Akechi outstretched his hand to the dark ceiling. It was almost black, an endless hole surrounding them. Akechi honestly didn't care where he was at this point. "I'm already so far into it, I refuse to lose. That's why I will take you all down. Even if I wish we could've been true friends… I must achieve that goal. That's what my entire life is. The reason I was _born…_ was to kill this man."

"…Even if you hafta kill all of us?" Sakamoto asked him. It was silent. Akechi could hear drumming in the background, even though nobody was there to play it. A soft breeze of air, a warming feeling in his heart.

"…The ends justify the means."

"Then call me by my first name. I don't want to hear you calling me Sakamoto if you're gonna be the person to kill me," Saka— Ryuji requested of him. "Let me call you Goro then. But don't think I'll let you kill me, _bastard._ I don't go down easy."

"…All right then, _Ryuji._ Know this one thing. I have already defeated your leader. You won't last long," Goro said, dead serious. Only he would strike him down, even if he has to go through hell.

"You're a real shit stain, Goro. I've made it as a Phantom Thief and as Akira's right hand. We'll steal your heart, even if he's gone. I won't let my friends suffer anymore. _Never again."_ Ryuji put his fist out towards Goro. Ryuji's face was bruised and swollen, but he was still smiling. It was too bright for him, but Goro put out his fist anyway.

They bumped their fists together and Ryuji smiled even brighter, determination sparking on the insides of his stomach. Goro could feel his eyes slowly closing in on itself, and he felt Ryuji relaxing and drifting off as well. The beating of the drums got louder and louder as he fell asleep. Right before he succumbed to this warm and comforting feeling, he heard the loud ring of a bell.

His eyes jolted upwards. Akechi started panting. Where was he? What was he doing? Why—

"Huh…" He said out loud. He was… He was back on the train. This quiet and desolate train, slowly moving and bumping along the tracks. Akechi looked out of the window, seeing the cracks and streaks on the wall pass by as more appeared. Small flashes of light appeared every so often, the small and crappy lights in the tunnel illuminating the way out. He clenched his fist and heard a crinkling sound. When he looked down, he realized the handle of his plastic bag was there.

"…" Akechi stayed in his seat. He was tired even though he just took a nap. It seems like he only slept for a little bit, since the same people who were in the trains from before he knocked out were here.

Akechi touched his face to find that his facemask was there. He slowly pulled it off and touched his cheek, his fingers trailing to his chin and then back up to reach his forehead. Zero scratches or wounds. No bruises, no nothing. Akechi licked his lips, feeling parched. It was a dream, huh. Not only that, but his beanie was back on his head.

Akechi stayed in silence, breathing in and out as the train jolted into the station.  "Doors are opening on the right. Doors are opening on the right. Thank you for riding."  He lifted from his seat before a sudden pain flashed through his body. It's like needles were poking into every single pore of his skin.

"Erkk—!" He hissed out, putting his weight back down onto his seat, his hands wrapped around his stomach. What the hell, why did he feel so sore all of a sudden? Akechi rose from his seat slowly and hobbled through the door, making it just before it closed on him. As soon as he got through, he walked over to the nearest wall and used it to support himself, breathing heavily with sweat dripping down his face.

 _"Shit… What the hell is happening to me? Did I sleep in the wrong position? But I don't think I even slept that long—"_ Akechi thought to himself as he pulled out his phone from his pocket— Wait a second.

Akechi pulled out a small box. Akechi's eyes widened. _Cigarettes._ He dug into his other pocket and he found his phone, but he pulled out a bright orange lighter with it. He didn't buy cigarettes at all. But when he _went to the station…_ Akechi shook his head. No, it was impossible…

Akechi pocketed them and pulled out his phone and stared down at the time. He hadn't even slept that long, so why did it feel like he just spent an eternity there? It was only thirty minutes to get everything and come back…

He put his phone on sleep mode and shoved it back into his pocket, taking a deep breath before taking his hand off of the dirty subway wall and walked up the slow-moving escalators. Akechi didn't notice the small scratch on the side of the screen.

When he got into his apartment, he opened up his closet and pulled out a small mirror. His closet had a lot of knick-knacks he uses for his trips to the Metaverse. Smoke bombs, Goho-M's, a medkit with a sewing needle and string, and also a red gasoline can. He used the mirror to check over his entire body. He didn't see any outer injuries and it didn't seem like it was a problem internally, so what the hell was going on?

"…Oh, whatever…" Akechi sighed, lazily plopping his plastic bag onto one of his cracked kitchen counters. He started pulling off of his heavy clothing one by one. His beanie, his jacket, and his facemask; he hated the heat they radiated.

He got comfy in his futon and slapped a cooling gel sheet onto the back of his neck. Even if it was nearing December and the weather was getting freezing, he felt hot as hell. He ignored it and closed his eyes anyway.

When he woke up in the morning, his body was completely refreshed. It was like everything he had experienced last night didn't happen. Maybe he should go to a doctor to see why he had an odd painful sensation crawl through his body, but even if he asks himself if he should go, he never does.

Akechi scrunched his eyebrows as he boiled his water, taking out a jar of instant coffee and uncapped it, bringing a small spoon. His feet tapped against his tatami, the whistle of his kettle blowing out hot steam. It progressively got louder and louder as he was lost in thought before he flung his hand over to the stove's dial and turned it off.

"…Why the hell did I say all of that to Ry—" Akechi grumbled to himself before his thoughts caught up with him. He grunted, stirring dubious amounts of instant coffee into the boiled water with a spoon stupidly fast, spouting curses and foul language, "Stupid fucking dream… blonde-haired bastard…"

And then he stopped and remembered what had just occurred only a few days ago. That silver gun in his hand, the sleek and cold metal running against his gloves… The water inside of his cup bubbled and boiled, his fingers still on the handle of his spoon. His hand was shaking; the only sound in the room was his heavy and shaky breaths with the soft humming of his kettle.

"…Dammit."

Time seemed to go fast, which was a complete change when he was in his dream. It moved slowly. Hell, he didn't even know if it moved slowly since there were no signs to tell him how long it lasted. Maybe his dream was just bleeding a little into reality since his time still seemed… warped.

While he was loitering around his apartment, his body positioned on its side with his head kept up by his arm and elbow. One of his knees was bent up, his free arm freely flipping through the inane channels with a small remote. To the sides of the area were discarded cups of ramen and soda bottles destroyed savagely.

Akechi kept flipping mindlessly until he heard a familiar voice. His eyebrows furled, his expression turning sour as he slowly set the remote down. It was Masayoshi Shido, his 'father.'

He looked at the screen bitterly as the man ranted about his so-called 'justice' and how he'll steer this country. _Bullshit._ Akechi knew it well.

Akechi quickly reached out for the remote again and turned it off. He hated seeing that bastard's face. He'd love to see it disappear from the earth, and he'd be the one to do it. He was close to his success, he could reach out to it. Just a little more time, just a little more time before it's all _over._

* * *

"Fuck."

He was in a gray shirt with dark-gray pants. His fingers tapped against the seat quickly. He was on this train again, but it seemed a bit brighter than last time. It was completely shrouded in darkness when he first arrived here. It was still dark, but it was an improvement.

Akechi knew that trying to do anything to escape this train was futile, so he sat and did nothing. Luckily, he didn't have to wait long. At least, he thinks he didn't have to wait long. Time never made sense here.

"S-s-station— Doors opening-ing-g—"  The womanly voice was even more distorted, barely managing to cram out a sentence. The scratchiness and volume of the voice made him want to tear out his ears. He wanted to escape this place, quickly leaving the train to see the familiar platform. But that wasn't the only thing there.

Akechi stepped out and stopped himself, looking at what was in front of him. He laughed to himself. Oh _shit._ He's crazy. He took a deep breath and walked closer. It was just a dream after all… _right?_

"Akechi?" The cat questioned with wide eyes. His tail which was swaying gently back and forth had dropped down upon seeing the recognizable mop of mousy brown hair. It was… It was Morgana. Not in his Metaverse form, of course, but his cat one.

"That's me. Detective extraordinaire and serial murderer," Akechi replied blankly as he sat down on one of the benches and shoved his face into his hands. "This is insane…"

"I'm the one that should be saying that!" He hissed. "What even is this place? And why the hell are you here?!"

"Look, I want to ask that also but I have no _fucking_ clue! What you're experiencing right now is most likely a dream," Akechi groaned to him. "Specifically a reoccurring one. I had a dream yesterday about this place."

"Are you saying _I'M_ not real right now?" Morgana asked him.

"What, are you then? _Are_ you real?"

"I-I think?"

"Great answer," Akechi sighed. Morgana groaned. He looked disheveled, his fur standing up crookedly with matted areas and his eyes were sunken. Akechi almost felt bad. _Almost._

"Wait… Why am I even talking to you? You killed our _leader!"_ Morgana hissed, his claws extending. He circled him and gnashed his teeth together. "You shouldn't even be here!"

"I don't want to be here either!" Akechi barked at him angrily, "Do you think I want to be on this _shitty_ train platform two times?! I feel bad that I killed your leader, but it was inevitable."

"Like I care— Wait _what?_ Y-you… You actually feel… bad? Wait… Inevitable?" Morgana asked him warily. Akechi stood up from the bench and sat on the floor next to Morgana. The cat flinched away for a second, still taking an aggressive stance. Akechi could see all of the thoughts playing through his mind, the confused and conflicted expression he thought he'd never see.

"Did I say bad? Sorry, I meant _glad._ Fuck you and your little team, but I don't feel like fighting right now. It's just a dream so fighting each other would be pointless. We're just going to have to wait until the dream ends," Akechi told him. He sighed, "We might as we use this time to _talk._ I might be able to understand you better… Or I might not."

Morgana slowly walked next to Akechi and plopped his hind legs down next to him and curled in on himself. He looked over at Akechi with his big blue eyes. The boy had his eyes shut softly, his facial expression neutral unlike his always smiling features he had always seen before.

"…You said you've been here before? Yesterday?" Morgana asked him.

"Yes. It was… interesting. I was stuck on the train for god knows how long," Akechi huffed. "It was difficult running through multiple train cabins until I reached the end…"

"I didn't even get to the end. I gave up half-way through. I can't do much in this useless form," Morgana sighed. "If I was human, I'd be able to do so much more. Maybe then… Maybe then I could've taken his place."

"As I said before… it was inevitable. Me doing _that_ was inevitable. You can't change what happened. Just accept that it happened and get on with your damn life," Akechi told him. Morgana scoffed, laughing at the double-standard. Akechi's eyes opened and he looked over to the cat. Morgana seemed to be smirking, looking at him as if he were an idiot.

"You say that, but it's quite hypocritical. You were just saying that you feel guilty over killing Akira, but now you're telling me to move on?" Morgana laughed at him. Akechi grit his teeth as Morgana kept giving him that cocky grin. "Maybe you're the one who should be telling yourself that."

"I should fucking kill you right here and right now, but I'm not an animal abuser." Akechi simmered in hatred.

Morgana yowled at him, "I am _NOT_ an animal!"

"Tell that to me when you don't have a collar on," Akechi scoffed. Morgana huffed and used his hindleg to scratch at the fur underneath his collar, trying to lift it off of his head. It didn't work. Morgana slowly let his leg down, pads of his paws squishing against the wooden flooring. It was dark. They could hear the sound of a railroad crossing in the distance, the lamp in the corner of the station flickering on and off.

"…I want to like you. I do," Morgana admitted to him. "Even after Akira was shot by you, he still believes that you aren't a bad person. That you're just… misled. And I think that also. I think you're misled. But… I can't seem to like you. You aren't a horrible person, but I'll never be able to forgive your actions. It violates my justice."

Akechi looked over at Morgana, who was staring straight into his eyes. The amount of truth that spilled from his mouth hurt him in so many ways, but he didn't say anything. Akira trusted him and he believed that he wasn't a bad person.

That's where he was wrong. Trust should've never been given to him in the first place.

"How much have you figured out about me? About who I really am?" Akechi asked him. Morgana stayed silent before speaking up.

"A lot," said Morgana, "more than you think we do. We know that you've killed a lot of people and that you work under someone."

"Is that all you know?" Akechi asked, making sure he doesn't know of any other deeds.

"…Yes," Morgana lied, "yes, that's all."

"…You think I'm _misled._ That I'm a sad person who chose the wrong path. And you may be right," Akechi told him. "But you are pitying me. You keep saying that you want to believe in me when you don't even know the extent of how I am."

He continued his rant, "I hate that fake sense of justice… Haha— It's not even justice. You're just _patronizing_ me."

"I'm more cynical than you think. I've caused mental shutdowns and psychotic breakdowns, I've done horrible things… All for some stupid, shitty goal." Akechi laughed. "But now I've gone too far. I realized my faults too far in. My only choice is to continue."

"Akechi, but you don't _have_ to continue! You're just convincing yourself that this is something you need to do! You can stop doing this!" Morgana argued with him, trying to say that this _wasn't_ the way. It could be different.

Akechi bolted upwards and yelled at him, "Stop it? Stop _this?!_ No, not when I'm this close to taking that bastard down… He'll pay for everything, even if I have to lie through my teeth every second of the day!"

"Akechi…" Morgana frowned. Akechi clenched his fists and shook his head.

"Believe me, I want to be that person you want me to be. I want to be good, but I just can't." Akechi sighed. "It isn't the me _now._ What you see right here is the real Akechi Goro… and I'm not going to change myself for someone as shitty as you. I do have two Personas, but both of them are _me."_

"Two Personas…? But— But only one Persona exists for every single heart, except Akira…" Morgana answered in awe. Akechi chuckled and crouched down to Morgana, patting him on the head.

"This is why I'm not to be trusted. How much faith do you put into a person like me?" Akechi asked him, wanting an honest answer. "I'm a fake. There's no worth to me, even if I stop. The only reason why I'm existing right now is because that goal is in sight…"

Morgana didn't shake off his hand; his rough and scuffed hands that have worked so hard to get to this point. Akechi kept petting him softly, and Morgana didn't mind it. Akechi looked burdened by life. It reflected him so clearly… How did he not notice this?

"I… I still believe in you, Goro," Morgana uttered his first name. "You can change. And after everything has passed, I want to see you become a better person. I _know_ you can. You're not like all of the other adults we've changed. You're… different."

"You can call yourself a fake and a liar. You can call yourself cynical and horrible, but you aren't. That's why… I want to stop you. No… _we'll_ stop you. We're going to change your heart for the better. We'll patch it up!"

Goro looked at Morgana with wide eyes. His expression softened and he gave a small smile. "You'll do that because you're the Phantom Thieves of Heart, are you not?"

"We aren't stealing your heart though. We'll be healing it. We'll find a way to stop you before you get to this goal of yours. You said it yourself. We _are_ the Phantom Thieves," Morgana mewled at him. Goro slid his hand off of Morgana's head slowly and leaned down on the ground and laughed heartily. He couldn't believe what he was saying… Were all of The Phantoms this persistent?

"Try as you might, but I guarantee you… I will reach the end. I'll complete my goal before you even see it coming," Goro snickered to him, "But really, none of this conversation will matter anyway since it's a dream…"

"We'll see about that," Morgana told him, curling onto the ground. "One day Akechi, when I'm a human… I'll be able to do a lot more than just be pitiful. I'll be able to go to school, to go to restaurants, to have more people understand me… I want that day to come soon. That way, I'll get to say to your face as a human something I think I've always wanted to say."

Goro looked at him confusedly. Huh? To him? What would this _cat_ have anything of importance to say to trash like himself? "And what exactly would that be?"

"That you're an idiot for thinking that about yourself. I knew you were pathetic, but I didn't think it'd be this bad," Morgana half-laughed half-sighed. Goro scoffed at his response, a bit in awe at how he had zero fear. Morgana continued, "I hope before you do what you do… you'll change your mind about everything. About us. About me. About… About Akira. He cares about you, you know? Even when he knew something horrible was going to happen to him, he still believed in your innocence and kindness."

Goro closed his eyes, thinking about all of the times he had spent with Kurusu. He did, didn't he? That patient smile on his face as they steamed themselves in the bathhouse, as he talked about his mother and how he would never be able to forgive the man that led her to her death… The man that never bothered to help him out of the sickening orphanages and pain he went through.

Kurusu listened. He played pool with him, laughed with him, and listened to good music while sipping on fruity drinks… He'd miss it. He really would.

"That's why I want you to believe in us. Goro, tell me this: do you really want to keep killing more people and put yourself through this?" Morgana asked him, his bright blue eyes piercing into his soul. It felt like no matter what he'd do, he'd never be able to lie. Goro pursed his lips. The blood on the table, the light in his eyes absent and empty… He wanted to forget it. He didn't want it to happen ever again.

"No… I don't. I've had enough of this. Of hurting people. Of feeling so… _desperate."_

"Then you already have your answer, Goro," Morgana smiled at him tiredly, his tail curling into his body. He relaxed all of his body with a satisfied expression on his face. It was almost like he reached enlightenment. "You just… You just need… to… accept yourself… That this is real…"

Goro could see his eyes slowly flapping down and up, trying to overcome his haggard energy. Goro put his hand on top of Morgana's body. He felt Morgana's breath stabilizing as his chest moved up and down at an even pace. Ah, his fur was so soft…

Goro's eyes slowly shut, that dark and empty void overcoming his body. The lamp in the corner of the room had finally run out its life, flickering out and leaving them both in the darkness. The banging of drums and bells rang inside of his head once again, before he succumbed to the darkness.

His eyes fluttered open, beams of light shadowing onto his face. Akechi flinched when he first felt it on his face, using his arm as a shield. He groggily raised himself out of his futon and sighed, rubbing his face with his hands. It was too bright outside, too sunny for him…

"I'm totally fucked…" Akechi groaned out. This wasn't supposed to happen. The things he was feeling should never _happen._ Akechi Goro is in actuality a stone-cold murderer so why was he feeling remorse?

He broke out into a cold sweat, ruffling his blankets. Was that really real? No, no way. He was just convincing himself that was real. His subconscious could tell him over and over that this was real and that he should choose a different path, but he begged to differ.

This was the _only_ path.

Akechi didn't know why he bothered getting out of bed. Hell, he didn't even know why he bothered getting out of bed at all. What's stopping him from becoming a NEET and never leave home?

But he did so anyway. He wanted to be productive to society (which is hypocritical considering the fact he actively deters it) and do something with his life.

For the first time in around a week, he'd finally be going outside to just… walk around. He only went out to buy food before, but what he needed was a breath of fresh air. Akechi took his keys off of his counter and opened his door, locking it behind him before wandering off to wherever the day would take him. Akechi hid well, despite his iconic haircut and color. He only got away with it because people were too stupid to recognize it.

It was cold. Akechi almost forgets that it's winter since he's stayed inside for such a long time. He aimlessly walked the streets of Shibuya, trying to find any purpose.

"Thank you for your purchase!" The girl cheered to him, handing him a plastic filled with steaming hot and fresh buns. Akechi nodded and took the plastic into his hand and accidentally brushed past the girl's hand. He flinched and brought it closer to his chest, ignoring the chilling sensation running up his back.

Akechi sat down in a random area, below a large tree with concrete containing its dirt and roots from falling over the clean roads. He brought out the bread and tried picking at it bit by bit. Akechi's hands should be desensitized and roughened from all of the hard work he's done in his life, but everything felt so sensitive right now. He tore it apart quickly, careful to not burn his fingers as he tossed piece after piece into his mouth. How did he manage to buy food again…? It was stupidly busy, with people walking everywhere and anywhere possible.

And then he stopped.

His eyes widened as the world turned grey, _just like his eyes._ Just like the color of the pistol he used. A hoodie was pulled over his head with bandages and bruises spreading over his face, hidden with makeup. It was slow-moving, and everybody's faces were blurred out. He could only see him. His pale skin, his messy black hair falling off of his head, glasses shading over his recognizable eyes. Hidden in plain sight…

Akechi was running towards them, leaving his food behind as he panted, sweat drooling down his forehead. He was sweating even though it's freezing cold…! Akechi reached his hand out, calling out to him as he was pushed back by the flow of the people, pushing his way through the cracks.

"WAIT! Kurusu! Wait! Shit—!" Akechi groaned.

And then he disappeared. _What?_ But… but he just had him in his sights. How did he disappear so fast? He was right there, he was so _close…_

"I'm going insane…" Akechi whispered to himself. There he stood alone, the bustling crowd walking past him and grumbling, telling him to move out of the damn way. Small flakes of snow started to fall, landing onto his clothes and melting fast, leaving small drops of water.

Akechi sighed and wiped off the sweat from his forehead before shoving his hands into his pockets. The snow started coming down softly and elegantly. Right before he left, he looked behind his shoulder where Akira had disappeared to.

 _"He's dead, Akechi Goro."_ He told himself. _"He's dead and he isn't coming back."_

And he walked away.

* * *

Akechi would be lying if he said he wasn't afraid of this place. This uncomfortably dark void where nothing mattered… he could probably jump into the railroad tracks, feel all of the pain from dying, and still wake up alive. Nothing in this dream would matter.

Why was he still being haunted by this place? Three times in a row now. Akechi laid on the floor of the train, which was oddly clean. He didn't see a speck of dirt or lint anywhere. It was eerily clean. His limbs were spread out as if he were making a snow angel, except for the fact that he wasn't moving at all. If he were on an actual train, people would assume that he'd either passed out drunk or _died._ Both sounded better than being here.

As Einstein had once said, “The distinction between the past, present and future is only a stubbornly persistent illusion," and Akechi truly felt the effects of it here. Everything on the train looked the same. There wasn't anything he could do to help track the time, and even if he did, he was too out of the loop to do anything.

"Shit… shit, shit, shit, shit, _shit—!_ First this fucking train and now I'm seeing illusions of a dead man… The hell is wrong with me…?" Akechi hissed out, bringing a hand to his head and slamming it on him over and over again.

Once again, the doors opened. The only thing that came out of the speakers was a robotic scream before it cut out. The doors rolled over and creaked eerily before making their stop.

Akechi pulled him off the floor, his hair dragging on the floor when he pulled himself up. Akechi felt sick, but not in a common way. We just felt woozy, drained, and mindless. He felt like he was drifting in the void constantly.

He stepped off of the platform, one of his shoes almost slipping into the gap between the platform and the train, but he caught himself. As soon as his entire body exited the door, it snapped shut and sped off in five seconds. He was almost pulled into the rails from the winds of the train, but he kept himself steady. Akechi wiped the sweat off his forehead and his headache and heavy heart disappeared in an instant.

He started chuckling, trying desperately to contain his laughter. His body _ached_ from the feeling. Holy _shit,_ he wished this was real.

It was Takamaki laying down on one of the benches? Laying? No, definitely not _laying._ It was something much more than that. Her face was pressed flat against the bench, smashing all of her features into a flat slate, both of her arms limp and off to either side with her knees curled up, her ass high in the air. Akechi wished his phone worked in this world so he could take a picture…

She turned her face away from the bench's seating. Takamaki revealed a line of drool dripping from her lips with red rectangular marks horizontal across her face. Her pigtails were also a lot more chaotic and fluffed up. Her pajamas are a pastel pink top with spaghetti straps and loose cloth shorts that were dirtied and dusty. This place puts _everyone_ through hell if that wasn't clear enough. The girl groaned and switched to a more suitable position, moaning and curling her body.

"…Takamaki," Akechi whispered out to her. Takamaki made a large snore and grumbled out loud to him with a tired voice. "Five more minutes..."

"Five minutes my _ass,_ wake up already!" Akechi screamed in her ear. Takamaki bolted up from the bench and proceeded to scream when she tumbled off, her ass slamming straight onto the floor.

"Ow, ow, ow, ow, ow…!" She called out, putting her hand on the bench and lifted herself up. "That was the _worst_ way to wake up… _wait."_

"Akechi… Goro…?"

"It seems you're finally awake, Takamaki. You seemed to be incredibly _happy,"_ Akechi chuckled, pointing to the corner of his lip before pointing out Takamaki. She looked at him in confusion before she moved her hand to get her bangs out of her face. Upon realizing something was wet on her face, her entire face turned red and she turned away, scrubbing at her mouth with the backs of her hand.

"A-anyways—! Why the hell are _you_ here, Akechi? Are you the one who—"

"No, I don't know what this place is. Two, I don't know why I'm here because it's most likely just a dream. Three, this isn't the Metaverse. Four, you're not real."

"Not _real?!"_ Takamaki screamed, "Excuse me, I am very much _real_ you cheeky bastard! Maybe _you're_ the fake one!"

"Say that as much as you want, but this is just a _dream._ Nothing here matters. Not only that but it's a reoccurring one."

"Ugh, whatever— we won't reach a conclusion if we keep talking like this…" Ann groaned, carding her fingers through her pigtails to get the tangles out of it. "You… said this was a reoccurring dream? How many times has it been?"

"You're currently the third one. It's been… rather exhausting, to be quite frank."

"Is it as exhausting as murdering people?" She asked in a low voice. Akechi rolled his eyes and crossed his arms, sitting down on the bench next to her.

"Ha ha. Very funny. It's not as exhausting as killing people. Mentally exhausting though? They're around the same level," Akechi told her. Takamaki's eyebrows shot up.

"Mentally exhausting? Wait, you aren't telling me that you actually feel remorse for your victims, _are you?"_ Akechi smirked at her when she asked him that question.

"I caught you red-handed," Akechi said to her. She crooked her head to the side in confusion. He continued, "you said _'victims'._ Plural. Meaning that you're saying that I've killed multiple people. So you know I've committed many murders, huh?"

Takamaki caught herself. He could see the spike of fear in her eyes and the chills that ran up her spine. She cleared her throat and lied horribly to him. "W-what…? Of course not!"

"You're horrid at acting."

"I know…" Ann admitted.

"I was toying with you. I already know that you guys are aware of my track record," Akechi said to her.

"Bastard…" She hissed. "I hate that I've ever admired you and that I still do…"

"Who, me?" Akechi laughed. "Are you insane?"

"I might be. But the way you're able to act and the amount of people that admire you for your fake personality… that's a talent," she told him.

"It's a curse, not a talent. If I could be true to myself one-hundred percent of the time like you idiots, I'd be clapping my hands every time somebody trips and falls in an ice-skating rink."

Takamaki snorted and covered her mouth. "No, that's most _certainly_ a talent. It's not that being able to fake yourself until you make it, I guess… I should say that it's your charisma."

"Charisma?"

Takamaki nodded and hummed, trying to think of her next words. "Even if you're _lying_ to everyone, you still need that certain kind of appeal and charisma to make it work. Even if you're an asshole, you still draw people to you. It's kinda gross, really…"

"Being called charismatic feels oddly _insulting._ I liked the fame when I was tricking them and gaining praise, but now it feels so grossly empty." He groaned and slumped on the bench, his back reaching where he was supposed to be sitting. His eyes closed and he listened to Ann's silly voice converse with him.

"If you think about it, being famous kind of sucks. I know that when our name was spread everywhere as a Phantom Thief. Nobody knew who we were or what we looked like, but I still felt anxious wondering about people finding out and hating me…" Takamaki tapped her fingers against the wood of the bench and looked over to him with tired eyes.

"I can only imagine what it'd be like to have your face out for the whole world to see, constantly being harassed and ridiculed…"

Akechi stayed silent and closed his eyes. He didn't know how to respond to her. He's never had a conversation about _himself,_ and how certain aspects of his fake life _sucks._ "It isn't as bad as you think it is. It'd be worse for other people that have parents. If that happened to you while your parents watched over you, you'd be fucked over."

"Well, luckily my parents don't care that much," Ann said.

Akechi stared at her and straightened his back on the bench as she chuckled anxiously. She had never really talked about this to anyone before, aside from… "They're always off in another country, so even if it happened they wouldn't notice."

Akechi breathed through his nose, dust flying everywhere around them. The station felt a lot colder than usual. _Was there even a usual?_

He intertwined his fingers with each other and spoke, "It would feel a lot better if parents gave a damn about their children, but they brush us off like trash. What kind of bullshit love do they claim to have for us when they can't even spare a second…"

"I hate garbage like that. It's such shit. Parents seem useless and they never _truly_ care."

"I… I don't think that's always true. There are a lot of rotten adults and people, but…" Akechi bit his lip and laughed at her. His nails were starting to dig into his skin, his hands shaking in anger just from thinking about it. "That's because you're stupid and naive."

Silence again. It was always like this. Akechi never knew what to say to the people who he talked to without being fake. That's just how he'd lived his life, so it's difficult to change _now._

"I've never hated my parents," Takamaki whispered as her voice shook, "I just wish they were with me more often… but they're busy. I can't blame them for having a job and wanting to provide for me. I don't know much about my parents, but I know that they're good people. They just want the best for me."

"Hos sickeningly sweet… I wish I had the same remorse for mine."

"S-sorry to pry, but…" Takamaki cleared her throat when looking at him. "I thought you were an orphan?"

"I am. Just, not in the way it's officially defined. My mother is dead, but my father is alive. He just doesn't know about me."

"Then…"

"…The only person I have left in this world that's related to me is my _father._ He's a reputable politician, but I know who he _really_ is…" Akechi hissed. His face was always plastered in his mind, no matter where he went. He imagined his hands around his neck, choking beneath him. "I want to see him crumble beneath my feet and apologize."

"Akechi, _that's…"_

"He led my worthless mother to her death after impregnating her. She killed herself and I was shoved into an orphanage. Of course I'd do all of this just to take him down," Akechi chucked. He seemed to be going insane from the thought that his life had to be like this. "But what I say to you doesn't matter. I like the fact that this isn't real because I can just rant about everything."

As soon as he said that, a train sped past, casting a red hue over the entire station. She looked at him with her glossy blue eyes, wide and surprised. And then she grits her teeth and bolted straight up from her seat. Akechi was taken aback by her sudden action. Her face was red in anger and she placed her hands onto Akechi's shoulders and _squeezed._ Akechi winced and latched his hands onto her wrists, trying to pry them off, but she kept strong. Even though the train had already passed, the station was still red.

"But this _isn't_ a dream! This isn't a dream at all! You said you've been in this place before, right? And I'm assuming you met with my friends, right?!" She yelled at him, "I bet none of them have talked about it with us yet because they think it's a dream, but this is… _this feels real!"_

 _"It isn't real, dammit!_ Stop trying to convince me, you fucking maniac! You're just a cognition of mine in this hellscape!" Akechi slapped her hands off and stood up, knocking her backward. She almost tripped on her feet but she caught herself. Takamaki bit into her lip and kept screaming.

"Why do you keep thinking this is a dream?! Are you just _denying it?!_ Why are you so stubborn!"

"I just _can't…!_ Because if I do, I'll— shit… just fuck off, will you?"

 _"Akechi…_ just tell me. If you think this is a dream, then what you say here doesn't matter, _right?_ So you can tell me."

"…"

Akechi couldn't. He _shouldn't._ He didn't want to admit that this was real because if he did, everything he tried to work up to would change.

 _Cold._ It was cold, after all. Usually, the train station was warmer, why was it so _cold?_ Akechi peered over to his left to see the lamp that was usually there. It was completely dead, without a flame. It basked the train station in darkness, yet he could see Takamaki's eyes staring at him like a lion preying on their soon-to-be kill.

"Goro, please. I want to help you. _We_ want to help you! I know you might hate us, that you despise everything about us, but I know we can help you! You just have to take it!" Ann extended her hand out to him. Her hands looked warm and soft. He could see the steam and heat radiating off of it. How long had it been since he'd held someone's hand? How long has it been since somebody has wanted to help him?

"I don't need your stupid help, _Ann._ I don't need your shitty lies to convince me to stop. I killed your leader, what's to say I won't do the same to you?"

"T-that's…" She trailed off. Goro laughed in dismay.

"…Even if I accepted your help, it wouldn't do much. It'd amount to nothing. I'm a cursed child; I'm destined to cause misfortune to the people around me," Akechi told her. Ann's eyes widened and she reached her hand out to his face. Those sad eyes, those distant and depressing eyes. She had seen them before. Her hand flinched before she could even brush her fingertips against his cheeks.

"It happened to my mother, to my friends, to the people who care about me… All I do is lie and trick other people. So stop trying to give yourself some sort of role as a savior. Do you want to save a mentally deranged person like _me?_ Of course you do, because all of you have that shitty savior complex. Just like _him…"_

Ann was shaking, tears pouring out of her eyes. "You keep telling yourself that you're less than _nothing,_ that you're the worst human on Earth. I can't understand you, I really _can't…"_

"…You don't need to understand me. I don't expect anybody to understand me except for myself," he breathed out and shoved his hands in his pocket. Ann didn't realize how red his eyes were until now, but they seemed to be shining. It was grotesque and fake; that look that he paraded around like an adult even though he was just a child. It made her _angry._

"I don't think you even understand what _you_ want, Goro. But that's all right, because we'll make you understand," she said to him. She sat on the floor and leaned back her eyes feeling heavy. "We'll save you, Goro."

"Goro this, Goro that… Who the hell permitted you to say my first name?"

"I gave myself permission."

"Whore…"

"Asshole," Ann shot back. Goro chewed up the insides of his cheek and laid down on the ground with her. Crap, he was getting tired. This dream would end soon. He felt his eyes closing. Through that darkness and the same annoying sound of bells and drums in the background, Ann asked him a question.

"Just… Tell me why you don’t want us to save you, Goro…"

"I…"

Goro swallowed his saliva and thought if he should really say this to her. Should he really? It was dark, it was hazy. He could feel his consciousness fading away.

"It's because… I plan to k—"

And then he woke up.

Akechi woke up again with his blanket crumpled off to the side and his stomach exposed to the cold air of his apartment. It had an AC, but it didn't have a heater. Akechi shivered in the cold and he lifted himself up. He checked his phone and ran a shaky hand through his hair.

He was asleep for half a day. Twelve hours of him sleeping were gone, but he still felt like shit. Tired, pissed, confused… He had so many ways that could describe what he was feeling but it never hit it right on the mark.

He groggily lifted himself out of bed with a sore throat. He was progressively getting worse and worse, his physical and mental state eroding and tearing apart at the seams.

He made himself instant ramen and scooped the contents into his mouth messily and quickly. Akechi didn't give two shits about doing anything the 'correct' way right now. He just wanted to sleep without being interrupted by that stupid fucking train.

His feet slid against the tatami mat underneath him when he sat down, and he groaned when he made an awkward impact. Akechi groaned and adjusted his black sweatpants. His shirt smelt like something familiar, but he didn't know what.

What was his life coming to…? Akechi was feeling sympathy for the people he tried to kill, had dreams about the very people he fantasized about choking, and hallucinations of a person that's supposed to be dead.

On a whim and when he was completely out of mind, Akechi pulled out the Phantom Aficionado website on his mobile phone. There was a lack of requests, and the polls were _also_ lacking. They were all bombarded with rude comments and troll requests. Did the Phantom Thieves even matter to the world anymore? It was like they had disappeared from existence to the eyes of the people.

He checked news articles to only find a few on the leader of the Phantom Thieves' death. It was odd since it felt like it was just yesterday when he saw that screen in front of him announcing the death.

It was the 28th of November. It had been eight days since he had the weight of a gun in his hand. It had been eight days since he saw the blood leak out of _his_ head and stain the table. It had been eight days since he had ever put on those leather gloves again. It had been eight days since he had first felt that needle of guilt stab through his chest.

Life was trying to tell him that these feelings were okay to have; that these bright feelings he had are normal and that he should embrace them and completely change his way of thinking, _but they were boorish and unethical._ He wasn't allowed to have these feelings. He _shouldn't_ have these feelings. What would the point be in holding onto them?

Everything he had done up until this point was all for her. For her revenge, for her death, for her measly existence that nobody remembered except for him. Akechi was the only one who cared about that damn woman who sold herself to people and sent him off to a bathhouse when she needed to do her business.

When she decided to nail in her own coffin by tying a rope to the ceiling, he was there. When her body was dragged out of their shitty and mediocre apartment, he was there. When they cremated her body and he wasn't even allowed to have access to the ashes, he was there. When he realized that her urn was _gone forever,_ he was there.

_Kurusu was the second time he had seen a body and felt sick from it._

Akechi threw his phone into the corner of his room. He didn't want to look at it anymore.

"Damn woman…" Akechi hissed out and pulled at his long and silky strands of hair. "It's all your fault for killing yourself… No, it's all _his fault…"_

Shido. Shido, Shido, Shido, Shido, Shido, _Shido Masayoshi._

_You'll be dead soon enough._

* * *

Akechi woke up on the station's platform. No bullshit train, no pain and suffering. He didn't move an inch. Every single day he felt like a part of himself was ripping apart. He felt weaker, exhausted, and lacked any motivation. He only needed one more thing to do and he could _win it._ But he was too tired for that. Akechi wanted to sleep; he _needed_ to sleep.

When the train's speakers screamed and the door opened, he didn't bother to open his eyes to see who entered into this place.

"You are here before me, unsurprisingly. I should have expected that," an elegant voice said to him. Akechi forced one of his eyelids to open to see a tall figure with long eyelashes and a lean body. He was wearing a loose white shirt and a pair of shorts.

"Oh… Kitagawa Yusuke," Akechi yawned out and shut his eyes again. "Don't talk to me. I don't want to hear it.

"You aren't surprised to see me?" Kitagawa questioned. He actually looked pretty clean and calm, but his skin looked paler than usual, which would be worrying because he was already paperwhite. Yusuke cleared his throat and walked over to where Akechi was and leaned over him." But that seems—"

"I _said_ to shut the fuck up…"

"…You're _really_ unappealing and horrendous, I hope you know. It's ineloquent of you, but I shall do as you wish."

"Good to know. I'll just give you a rundown of what's happened. A shitty train station, losing track of time, your leader is dead and it's disgusting, this is a dream— any questions before I lie here until it ends?"

"But it isn't a dream."

"Oh my god, this shit again?" Akechi groaned out. "Do you know how many goddamn times I've heard that?"

"Ah, Ann told me you would say that. I was surprised when we all gathered and she told us that she's been having an odd dream. Not only that, but Morgana, Ryuji, and Ann had the same experience."

"…W-wait…"

"Do you believe me now?" Kitagawa asked him. Akechi shook his head and laughed. He was exasperated at the words coming out of Kitagawa's mouth.

"Hahaha! No, no I don't."

"Why do you refuse to believe it so much? Is it that shocking to you?"

"Oh, I think it's real now… I just don't want to believe it for my own sake."

"You're quite an anomaly Akechi… It's rather shocking. You're knowingly disagreeing with the truth rather than accepting it…"

Akechi sighed. "I'm making myself blind to it for my own sake. I don't know what'll happen if I choose to accept it as reality."

Kitagawa doesn't know what else to say. What _could_ he say? Akechi was a murderer and that was a straight fact that nobody could deny. He murdered numerous people and their leader, so why did he want to sympathize with him? Was this another ploy?

"You're… a horrible person. When Ryuji said that you're remorseful, I thought it was a rouse. I still believe that it is. You refuse to accept the reality of the situation that you've caused. You're worse than anybody… even my sensei could be considered a saint next to you."

"Madarame, huh? Madarame… I guess you could say I'm worse than him. Stealing his pupil's paintings and manipulating the public… That's right. I'm worse than him. But why is it that you feel so strongly about him compared to other victims? They did the exact same to them as they did to you," Akechi told him. Kitagawa shook his head, his entire frame shaking.

 _"No,_ he did much worse. He… killed my mother. Used her work as his own and claimed it as his own, even though the piece was dedicated to someone else. Someone precious. That… That is _scum."_

Akechi looked at him with wide eyes. Kitagawa's eyes were intense and uncomfortable to look at. It ticked him off, yet at the same time…

"Pfftt… _pfftt—_ HAHAHAHAHAHA—!" Akechi laughed. Kitagawa growled and grabbed him by the collar.

"I knew you weren't genuine! You're even laughing!"

Akechi kept laughing at what Kitagawa had said to him. It was _priceless_ to him, pure gold. The look on his face, the tightness around his neck from his collar being pulled up, the raised fist that was about to slam into his face… the irony was killing him.

"I'm not laughing because it's _funny—_ Well, sort of. No, I'm laughing because of the _irony."_

"Irony of _what?_ What kind of preposterous irony would you be laughing about?"

"…Your mother's death. In conclusion, your teacher left your mother to die and stole her life away… It's almost pathetic, really… Then why are we so _different?"_

Kitagawa stayed silent at Akechi's disturbed expression. His eyebrows were scrunched up and his eyes were glassy. Akechi couldn't understand him, he couldn't understand _himself._

"At least he showed you that fake affection… At least he was actually there for you, even if he ended up as a _bastard…_ I can't believe the irony… We're both so similar yet we're so damn different and I can't understand _why."_ Akechi's voice cracked. "My father left my mother to die, but he was never there— No, no he was there, always watching me as if I were an insect… as if I were a waste."

"You… _What?"_ Kitagawa's fist lowered at Akechi's destroyed expression. He kept laughing. At himself? At the situation? Nobody could tell anymore.

"My mother worked in the red light district to provide for us. I thought we were happy… I thought that even though nobody else was there in the world to help else, we at least had each other. But then she took her life. The struggle was too much. A child, a horrible job, and a burden… I was a curse on her," Akechi explained. "But I'm not a burden anymore…"

Akechi's hand clamped down on Kitagawa's wrist and he tried to dig his nails into his skin. Those burning red eyes of anger and fury that sought revenge for their dead mother glared at him and the fear spiked through Kitagawa.

"I will beat you all… I will stand at the top of that _fucking_ mountain and laugh."

"…You truly are an unsightly wretch." Yusuke scoffed and pried off Akechi's hands. The long sleeves of his shirt were creased, and small beads of blood seeped through the white cloth. "The reason why we're different is because I decided to go on with my retribution in a meaningful way— but all you feel is hatred."

"It's the only thing I'm truly capable of feeling, _Yusuke."_ Akechi seethed. "This hatred will drive me forward to meet my goal and shitty trashy thieves like you won't stop me. No matter what."

"…I wish I could save you from your fate, but you already seem to be at its conclusion," Yusuke said. "You're close to that goal Goro… I don't like you, and I feel that I never will. But I see the beauty in everything, even if it's seen as disgusting by other people. I believe that we can still save you."

"Do you think I'm a fucking portrait for you to stare at and admire? That I'm some sort of poetic metaphor?" Goro stood up from the bench and shoved his face into Yusuke's. Yusuke backed up a little as Goro got closer and closer to him. "I hear that same shit every single time I come here and it's starting to _piss me off!_ 'We can save you, Goro!' 'We believe in you!' Fuck that stupid shit…"

Goro pushed Yusuke and he felt his feet catch the edge of the platform. He almost fell down into the pit of the rails, but Goro kept him from falling by holding him by his collar with both hands. Yusuke grit his teeth.

"Tch…!"

The tables were turned now.

Yusuke wrapped his hands around Goro's wrists in a tight grip and choked on the pressure on his neck.

"Am I so pathetic that you need to tell me that I need saving?"

Yusuke could hear a violent sound on the right side of his ear. Something was speeding towards him… Yusuke's eyes widened when he realized what it was.

A red light was immediately cast over them. It was as if they were falling into the pits of hell. Goro kept him hanging over the edge and gave him a sinister smile. "But I'll tell you something, Yusuke… I don't need _saving._ I don't need to feel this regret."

"Actually, what if I just dropped you here right now? What if I killed you right here? I mean— I was going to do it at some point, so why not _now?_ I know that wounds here don't transfer to the real world… but what if I did something _irreversible?"_ Goro's face was shadowed over by something black and sinister. His smile was wide and unnatural. "I haven't tested it out yet… so how about we do it now?"

Yusuke could hear it coming closer. The rails jittered underneath and Yusuke could barely breathe. The crossing sound beeped loudly and it resonated throughout the train station. He coughed and pleaded with Goro.

"Do it… I know that you won't. I believe in change… That is what the Phantom Thieves believe in. We change the hearts of pitiful adults… but some people can change themselves on their own. You have a Persona and we know you have the ability to change your mind!" Yusuke yelled at him and coughed once more. Louder, louder, louder. He could see the train getting closer and closer in his field of vision.

"You just need to accept it—!"

The train slammed through.

Yusuke could barely think when the train grazed his scalp, his hair flying to the left as the train traveled faster than light. Goro was holding Yusuke close to his chest, supporting him and keeping him from falling. Yusuke took heavy breaths when Goro set him back down in the solid ground after the train had passed by, the red demonic hue fading out to reveal the real Akechi Goro. Furled eyebrows, eyes filled with filthy desires, and a shit-eating grin.

"I should've killed you there… but it would be more entertaining to see you die with the rest of them."

"Ah, how kind you are to spare me…"

 _"Shut the fuck up._ One more word from your mouth and I— I…"

Exhaustion overtook them. They both collapsed to their knees and clutched their heads. Yusuke coughed and soothed his throat to the best of his abilities, folding on himself and groaning.

"I-is this… Is this normal?"

"I-I haven't experienced like this… b-before…" Goro groaned out tiredly. "It's usually… gradual… _yawn…_ shit…"

They both slammed onto the platform, their bodies laying uncomfortably. Goro closed his eyes.

"I fucking hate all of you... Trying to… manipulate me… into… feeling… _remorse—!"_

"It isn't us doing that… you were already feeling that before convening at this train station…"

"Shut up… I hate you, I hate you, I hate you… I… hate…"

"We can keep convincing ourselves that… we don't like each other… but we both know the truth…" Yusuke's eyes finally fell. Goro laughed tiredly, the sound of bells and the beating of drums getting closer and closer.

"We're both liars…" Goro chuckled.

Yusuke smiled. It was the first time Goro had told him the truth… the full and unhidden truth. "Yes… we are."

And the harsh pound of a drum made him wake back up in his bed.

Akechi breathed heavily, his eyelids twitching and slowly lowered. Akechi realized his tiredness and shook his head, widening his eyes as much as he could to convince himself that he was awake and _not_ wired at all.

Every time he went to sleep, it felt like he wasn't sleeping at all. He didn't feel any increase in energy, he just felt tired. But he forced himself to stay awake out of the fear of what might happen if he fell asleep again.

But he couldn't help it. The falling of his eyes, his heavy body; everything felt surreal.

Goro slept. And nothing happened. The day turned to noon and he kept sleeping to recover his lost rest. He slept for half of the day and when he woke back up again, he was shocked that he didn't end up at the train station again.

 _"W-what are the requirements that I end up there?"_ Goro thought as he lifted himself out of his futon. He coughed, his face red and his forehead hot. His nose felt stuffed and his throat was _burning…_ He attempted to clear his throat, but it didn't work. The only thing he managed to cough up was phlegm. It was official…

"Fuck… I'm _sick…"_

Akechi stood at his stove and boiled water in his stainless steel kettle, his eyes swollen and his face red. He felt like he was going to pass out and die at any moment. Akechi could barely stay awake when the kettle started screaming at him, and he mustered the strength to turn off the blue fire coming from his shitty stove with peeled-off paint.

Akechi almost burnt his hands on boiling hot water when he put it inside of his mug, and by almost it means that he _did._ In his half-awake state, his arm ended up slumping and he poured it straight on top of his fingers. Akechi squealed out in pain and almost dropped his kettle to the floor, but he set it back onto the stove and cradled his burning fingers.

"Shit…!"

Akechi felt awake when he ran his hand under cold water. He stared at his now full cup of hot water with a jar of citron tea to the side of it. Next to that bar was a box of instant coffee and it was nearly empty. He hadn't even touched the tea.

"…I guess I'll have some tea today," Akechi mumbled to himself. He grabbed a spoon and dipped it into the syrupy and goopy citrus mix and he plopped in a few spoonfuls. The sweet smell wafted up into his nose and he sighed in relief. It had felt like years since he had tea.

He blew into his mug and took a sip, the burning sensation still festering on his fingertips. It was tiring to stay up right now. It was tiring to think of anything right now, so maybe he'd just go to bed… _No,_ absolutely not. It worked last time, but what guarantees that he won't go back to that place?

Akechi grumbled. Sleep? No sleep? Sleep? No sleep? It was a scale that didn't weigh anything correctly. His mind was too jumbled and fucked up to even think about it rationally, so he gambled his sanity away and slammed face-first into his pillow.

"Fuckin' thieves… stupid artist… damn blonds… _cats…"_

* * *

Akechi was screaming when he woke up on the train, his throat raw from his coughing. He still felt like shit from being sick. How the hell did his sickness translate to here? What _is_ this place?

"Why—" He slammed the back of his head on the hard metal. "Why why why why why why why why why—"

Akechi was frothing at the mouth. He fucking hated trains. He didn't regret causing a mental shutdown to crash the fucking underground train. Fuck trains.

Akechi couldn't understand what this place was. Akechi didn't know if he should know. What's the possibility that this place is _actually_ hell and he's stuck inside of it because of all the sins he's committed? 

Akechi wanted answers, but he never looked through the train to get them. There has to be _something_ here to give him answers, but he didn't know if his sanity would allow him.

Akechi hadn't traveled backward in the train. He hadn't gone to the lower carts. His eyes trailed over the dark window of the other train and he slowly stood up and walked over to the door. "I guess I'm doing this…"

Cart one. Akechi ran his fingers along the walls and squinted through the dusty darkness. There were adverts all over the walls, but none of them were of importance. He went into the next one with the same results. Actually, it seemed like a direct copy of the one he had been in. The same ads, same placement of them, same layout…

This wasn't working.

Cart four was when he realized that his thinking was _very_ flawed.

What did Akechi think this would do— _work?_ Like hell it would. He was on the fifth cart and it was an exact carbon copy of the other four. Nothing was changing.

Akechi groaned and leaned back in one of the seats. The handles above swung from the speed of the train. It was going incredibly fast; faster than the speed of light, but Akechi didn't feel anything.

The train stopped. Akechi almost flopped out of his seat from the abrupt stop. When the train stopped before, it was smooth and soft. Akechi could barely tell that it stopped unless the doors opened, but this time was harsh and brutal. The train shook madly and screamed against the rails of the train.

Akechi saw the train station through the window of the train, looking the same as ever. He kept staring at it, his eyes never leaving the sign he could never read. It would never tell him, and he could never remember what it would say after he woke up in his bed.

 _"…What if I don't go onto the train station…?"_ Akechi thought. He stared out onto the platform, watching a shorter figure than him jolt on one of the benches. He swallowed his saliva as they calmed themselves down and settled back unto the eerie silence of the station.

One minute seemed like an hour. As every second passed (was it even seconds?) he felt his skin crawl with spiders. It was burning, it was _uncomfortable_ , it felt like his entire being was shuffled into a tight box and he couldn't _breathe…_

"The doors will be closing now. Please watch your step." 

"Holy shit…" Akechi muttered out.

He felt the train rattle and shake as the doors closed and the train sped off. Akechi breathed heavily as the train sped off. He looked back over his shoulder to see that the train station was gone.

"Where… Where is the train going to next then…?"

Time passed.

Time had passed, but he didn't know how much. It felt like it was longer than usual, but he couldn't say shit if it was or was not.

Akechi laid his back down across the seat and stared up at the ceiling of the train.

 _"I don't think I've ever looked up before."_ Akechi thought. Akechi's vision was blurry from exhaustion. He was about to close his eyes and rest them until a speck on the ceiling made itself apparent.

_It was shifting._

Akechi bolted up from his position and stood up on the seat, latching onto a bar to steady himself. His knees shook at the dangerous rattling of the train as he squinted.

It was a mixture of red and black; a speck that was barely noticeable within the dark space.

"Holy shit… This is… This is the _Metaverse?"_ Akechi breathed out in shock. He shook his head. "Wait, no, this couldn't be the Metaverse. This isn't a Palace— this isn't even Mementos. What the fuck…"

The train stopped. Akechi choked on his saliva as he lost his grip on the bar he was holding onto and slammed the back of his head on the hard floor. Akechi grunted out in pain and curled on himself, rubbing the back of his head to calm the pain. "Shiittt…"

He pulled himself up and got to his feet, looking back out at the window once again. He turned cold when he looked at the station he was at.

"Huh…?"

It was the same station.

The person that was on the bench was still there like they hadn't moved at all since the train left. Even though the train had left from the area and had traveled for such a long time, Akechi found himself back at the beginning. Akechi felt like he was losing himself in this space. He could gear a timer in the back of his head, counting the seconds until his eventual end. It was _painful._

"Hell… this is _hell…_ What the fuck…? I—" Akechi faltered when he looked at the door. Ever since he noticed that tidbit of the Metaverse— the single sign that was both a saving grace and the worst curse he could have— everything was blurring and blending together.

As the door warped in a jarring and eerie way, Akechi put his foot outside of the station's doors and they slammed behind him.

It was as cold as usual. _As usual?_ When did Akechi become so familiar with this place that he would think of it so fondly yet so disturbing?

On the bench was a half-dead figure, groaning and moaning in displeasure. Their brown hair was scrambled up, their top braid mangled and lopsided.

"Why are all of them able to sleep but I can't…?" Akechi sighed and stared at her face. She looked increasingly uncomfortable, almost like she was experiencing a bad dream. She was twisting and turning around on the bench, her arm popping out of her tucked in body.

"Nijima, wake the fuck up," Akechi said sternly.

Nijima's eyes shot open and she screamed loudly. She was fast, a fist hurling straight towards Akechi's face.

He choked at the pale knuckles flying towards him and stepped out of the way of the blow before it made contact with his nose, but another fist came flying towards him as soon as he dodged that one. It landed right on his cheek. He managed to stay on his two feet, caressing his injured side and glaring at the girl.

She had a terrifying look on her face: a mixture of being so scared that she'd shit her pants and so angry that she'd snap your neck in one go. Her breathing was labored and unnatural. When she gained her senses, a wave of guilt and embarrassment delved into the depths of her heart and tore her apart.

"Oh…. _Oh…_ I'm so sorry! I should've expected you to come here… The others said there weren't any enemies here, so I don't know why I'm so afraid of this place… When I heard your voice, I just—" Nijima softened up at his appearance and apologized to him. She looked around nervously from the walls to the empty train tracks. Akechi was still standing on his two feet, but his hand was rubbing the stinging spot on his face. Nijima felt another surge of guilt. "It looked like that hurt… Are you really okay?"

"Don't even ask me that fucking question."

"That's a rude introduction coming from you, Akechi, but I suppose it's expected. Everyone told me how much you've changed." Nijima pointed out to him. Akechi scoffed and crossed his arms. The stinging on his cheek wouldn't go away, but it's happened often enough that he could ignore it.

"Did they say if it was a _good_ change?"

"…No."

"Let's keep it that way." Akechi yawned and sat down on the ground. He hung his feet off of the platform of the train station, kicking them as he watched the rusted tracks of the station. He could see the specks of red in everything now that he noticed the small gap in reality.

"You're confusing me a little bit. The others gave me a rundown of this place and I've been trying to stay as sane as possible, but it's harder said than done." Nijima sat down to the right of him and put her legs down. The large gap between them made it feel like she'd fall into the void if she dropped down. 

"Think about how _I_ feel. This is my fifth time being here. I'm going to die the next time I wake up."

"Why do you think that…?" Nijima asked as she adjusted her Buchimaru pajama top with matching bottoms that scraped up against the wood of the platform and the wall of the tracks.

"I got sick when I woke up after meeting Ann. I've been sleeping the past few days and drinking tea to calm down the symptoms, but I'm not getting any better."

"Then how are you doing here…? Do you feel sick in this place?"

"A small bit, but it feels like a sore throat more than anything. A bit of an inconvenience," Akechi explained, "but it isn't as bad when I wake up."

"How has your sleep been…? After having this… _'dream'_ with you, they wake up feeling like they didn't get any sleep at all— like they hadn't even rested." Nijima looked at him with worry. Akechi wanted to cuss at her to stop looking at him with those pitiful eyes, but he was too focused on the actual questions she was asking him.

Akechi crossed his legs and heard a train from very _very_ far away coming towards them. It was chugging along the tracks, bringing with it the ambient glow of red around them. "I haven't slept in a very long time. Well, you do _sleep_ but you're never satisfied. I also made an interesting discovery…"

"Discovery…?"

"Look over there."

Akechi pointed to the top of the ceiling above the rusted tracks. Nijima squinted at it and couldn't find what he was pointing at. Akechi told her to wait just for a moment and she'd find what he's talking about.

She saw it.

It pulsated, a small spec hidden amongst the darkness that crept above them. The red and black motif of the Metaverse scrambled in with the world. Now that she saw that, she could see it _everywhere._ The influences on the wooden station, the walls, _everything._

"W-what the… So this _is—"_

"It isn't."

"It's not…? How come? Everything points to this place being the Metaverse, especially now that we see the red and black."

"Morgana."

The simple name was enough to give Nijima her answer. Nijima hummed in acknowledgment. "Even if we aren't recognized as a threat in a Palace yet, Morgana still appears in his Metaverse form. But then… what _is_ this place if it isn't the Metaverse?"

"Honestly, I have no fucking clue. This place is unknown and unknown it'll stay… unless we find out more answers," Akechi sighed. The whole room was red now. Nijima didn't realize the slow change of lighting until it was on her at full force.

"What— What is this light…?"

"Train's coming in a few. You should pick up your legs; unless you want them cut off." Akechi picked up his legs off the edge and folded them into a criss-cross. Nijima could hear the train coming closer and closer and quickly yanked her legs up.

"Yeah, I'll keep my legs up… This place reminds me of somewhere…"

"I mean, throw your ideas. Any idea is a good idea at this point."

"…Well

Akechi looked her in the eyes. Now that he thought about it, she had a similar eye color to him. But something had changed in it. Before, they always looked pitiful and sad. It made him cringe every time he had to look at eyes that looked like his.

"…When did you stop being a doormat?"

The train flew past them. Even though the speed of the train made their hair fly everywhere, the light amplifying the color of their eyes, they didn't look away from each other. Nijima's hair tangled itself in the wind, flying towards where Akechi was sitting. In that mess of brown, her eyes showed clearly.

"…When I stopped taking orders from other people."

The train had passed by fully, turning the room back to its cold and dull state. Their hair was frizzy, but the words she said rang in Akechi's mind.

"That was aimed at me, _wasn't it?_ Are you trying to insult me?"

"I'm not _trying_ to insult you… I'm trying to _help_ you."

"Surely you know that your efforts are in vain, correct? Nothing you say is going to change my mind, especially when it comes from somebody as useless as you."

 _"Useless?!"_ Nijima stood up and held Akechi by his collar, straddling him onto the ground. She yelled in his face. "If _I'm_ useless then what are you? You're the same as me when it comes to being pressured by others… Always needing to feel like you have to be at the top; feeling that you'll never be good enough… So why are we so different?"

"It's simple, Nijima—" Akechi puts his hand on her shoulder and pushes her off. She lands on her back and pushed herself back up. "It's because I'm not a doormat like _you._ Even now, you _still_ can't think for yourself. I've been thinking for myself the moment I got handed the worst card in the deck…"

"That's where you're wrong and you remain _wrong._ I'm _not_ a doormat. Caring for other people doesn't make you weak. Caring for other people makes you feel human, which you _aren't."_

Akechi laughs and stands up on his feet towering over her and scoffs in her face. "Human? Who would want to be a human in this shitty society? Humans aren't created equally, and it shows so much. People step on others to get a higher place in life; people get stepped on because they can't do anything but snivel and cry— being human is impossible."

"That's why it's up to us to change society for the better!" Nijima stood up and pushed her face close to Akechi, trying to reason with him. "The only way that cycle _stops_ happening is when we step in— That's the world I want to help create! A world where we don't have to go through that."

"What kind of communist ideal is that?" Akechi laughed again. "A world where everyone holds hands and gets along? Where pain doesn't exist and we all get along?"

"…Humans aren't created equal. I'm not equal to Akira. I'm not equal to Ryuji, Haru, Morgana, Futaba, Yusuke, Ann or— or even _you…_ But I'm myself," Nijima told him. "Nobody is equal, but we should make a world where everybody has the right to be treated as such. To be treated like a _human."_

"That's never going to happen. Your stupid ideas are as stupid as the rest of your damn team. Striving for true beauty, striving to change the hearts of the corrupt, striving to heal the ones that can't help themselves…"

Akechi clenched his fists. Just a second ago he was above her— Just a second ago, he was towering over her like she was nothing; so why did she look taller than him? She didn't look like a doormat. Even with her frazzled hair and cute pajamas, she didn't break a sweat when she gave him that strong look.

Goro stopped laughing.

"…I remember why I hate looking at you, Makoto. Because your eyes look like mine… but they _aren't_ mine."

"I remember why I don't like looking at yours, either… And I think you might know what I'm about to say, Goro." Makoto laughed and put her hands behind her back. She gave him a soft smile full of pity and sympathy. He hated the look she was giving him, full of misplaced affection that felt so real yet so fake. The ringing of a bell and a beating drum made his eyes close, even though he was standing up.

"It's because it reminds me of how I used to be."

* * *

Waking up felt different this time. It wasn't pleasant in any way, that's one thing that didn't change, but there was another indescribable feeling. It felt akin to pain, but it didn't hurt enough to feel like pain. It was pulsating at his head, but he felt almost nothing.

Akechi was still _sick._ Sick and tired and everything horrible that can describe his situation. Miserable is an understatement and joy doesn't exist in his vocabulary.

Akechi's hands shook as he slowly took off the blanket around him and shivered when he left his covers. He felt hot and cold at the same time, but he didn't know how to help himself.

He inspected himself in the bathroom and put a thermometer inside of his mouth. Once it beeped, he plucked it out of his mouth and looked at the digits on the screen. He was at 105.7 degrees; a high-grade fever.

Akechi felt like he should visit a hospital, but there was no possible way that he'd suddenly show his face to be cured, especially when he's been gone from the public eye for more than a week now. He'd have a lot of questions to answer (not only that but Shido was up to his ass about almost everything in his life) and he wasn't very keen on answering them.

Akechi smoothed his fingers over the old sink and breathed heavily. His vision was getting dark.

 _"Shit, I have to make sure I don't pass out…"_ Akechi pulled open the bathroom mirror and an array of pill bottles filled the small area. He reached for a familiar bottle and popped the lid open, shaking a few into his hand and swallowing it dry. _"This should help my symptoms a bit…"_

Akechi stuffed the bottle back inside a random place and slammed the mirror shut, stumbling over to his bed and groaning.

No sleep. How long can a person go without sound sleep before they die? Akechi wouldn't let himself die before then, but if he had a death date then he needed to complete his life goal before then.

Akechi leaned against the off-white wall of his apartment building and sipped on water. He had a small bowl of soup next to him that he created from a soup can and he watched snowflakes fall down from outside and onto his windowsill.

Akechi would've loved to admire the beautiful snow right now, but he was more occupied with getting better. He had always liked snow and he liked how it felt when a stray piece fell on his face. It made his day feel brighter, even though the sun was nowhere to be seen.

His mom would often scold him for not putting enough layers on him and that he should've been more careful. Akechi would always cross his arms and talk back to his mother about how she should practice what she preached, since she was barely wearing anything when she stepped outside of the apartment.

His mom would look at him sadly and go back into the house. She'd come back with layers of clothing and they'd start to collect the snow around them and pat them into little balls. Her hair was frazzled and messy and her eyes looked tired, but she still had the energy to crouch down and pile up snow into her gloved hands.

There wasn't enough snow to make a snowman, so they opted for snow bunnies instead. It was hard to find sticks and stones around the area since they lived in a relatively industrial area, but Akechi was great at finding things that people didn't want.

"Isn't it pretty, Goro? I've always loved the snow," his mother said to him as she lovingly caressed his head. "I'm glad that my love for it was passed onto you."

"Can we play again? When we don't have people over?" Akechi asked eagerly. His mother had an indescribable look on her face. Her hand stalled on Akechi's chestnut hair before she continued again.

"…Of course, Goro. Of course I will."

Akechi came home from school with a shiny one-hundred percent on his math test. Surely his mom would be proud of him and would play with him longer that day, but that day ended up not existing for her.

She didn't fulfill that promise.

Akechi held the bowl of soup up to his mouth and stared back up at the falling snow again. It was soft and gentle, just like his mother. But it was also _cold_ and inattentive to what was around it, acting like it cares for the others around it but in reality, it doesn't care. Nature took its course and did whatever it wanted; just like his mother.

Akechi closed his eyes and thought about his mother again. That chestnut hair and dark brown eyes that looked so detached and distant from everything. Her red lipstick was always slightly smudged and the short skirts she always wore when she was headed to work.

He remembered her words after she said that she'd play with him the next day.

"I'll only play with you if you bring me a perfect report card. I won't have anything less."

Now that he thought about it, Akechi didn't miss his mom.

* * *

Akechi snapped his fingers, occupying his mind in any way. He needed to stay sane or else he was going to try something stupid. Now that he knew that Metaverse rules don't apply to this place, he could die if he made the wrong move.

The thought of an unexplored area that was beyond even what _he_ knows was impossibly hard to comprehend. The Metaverse is already a world of human cognition that laid beneath society as people went about their lives blissfully unaware of its existence— but Akechi never feared it because he was traveling in it for years by the time the Phantom Thieves came to recognition.

Akechi had always thought of the possibility of different worlds, but he never thought too hard on it. If it wasn't directly messing with him, why would he care about it?

Now he was caring about it.

Akechi cleared his throat when the train screeched to a halt. The train looked in even worse condition than before. The metal in the train itself was rusted and some of the windows were cracked. Scratch marks covered the formerly shiny surface. The sound it made when the doors opened was akin to a demon screaming and shouting, almost as if they were being burnt alive.

Akechi didn't know what he was thinking. The station he was in wasn't any better right now. The boards were scratched up and scuffed, different from their smooth original appearance. Cobwebs covered the corners of the stations, but it didn't nest any life. It was like time was continuously moving forward here.

Out walked a girl with shorts on and a white tank. Her bright red hair was matted in some parts, but she looked alive and well.

"I see you've gone through the turmoil of the train, Sakura," Akechi commented. Her bare feet stumbled when the train door closed behind her and sped off. Her hair went flying everywhere and she screamed, trying to get her hair under control.

When the train stopped, she breathed heavily and combed her hair down with her fingers. Sakura crossed her arms over her body protectively and walked to Akechi. Her glasses were skewed off to the side but she quickly fixed them. "I-I, uh, I— um…"

"You know you don't have to say anything, right?"

"…If I don't say anything, it'd just be _really_ awkward. We're playable characters, _not_ NPCs…"

"There's your video game talk…" Akechi sighed.

Sakura shuffled to the other bench, sitting on opposite ends from each other. Akechi knew why she was doing it; why wouldn't he? But more importantly, he wanted answers from her on what this place is. Sakura Futaba is the daughter of Isshiki Wakaba, she had to know _something._

"I assume that your friends have told you all about what's happened, right? This place _isn't_ the Metaverse. Any idea what it could be?" Akechi asked her. An awkward silence filled the air. Sakura didn't want to say anything, yet she wanted to say _everything_ at the same time.

"I-It's definitely _not_ the Metaverse. It doesn't feel like it, but some things from the Metaverse and the real world are leaking in with each other…" Sakura told him. "I have a theory, but I might be wrong."

"I said this to Nijima last night: any idea is a good idea. We've been taking this situation quite lightly, but it's terrifying when you put it into perspective," Akechi sat up from the bench to look at Sakura at the other bench, sitting as far away as possible. "A world that we know nothing about and have been forced into repeatedly… It could be dangerous."

Sakura muttered, "Well, I've been thinking… What if this isn't the first time I've been here…?"

"Huh?"

The assumption that this wasn't the first time she's been here— That she's been here multiple times.

"N-not only _me_ but… What if _everyone_ has been here?"

"You aren't making any logical sense; stop asking me rhetorical questions and get to the point."

"That did a hundred points of damage to me… But I'll explain it. After talking with some of the members, apparently we've all had reoccurring nightmares happen to all of us over the past year. It's terrifying, and it has to do with people we're close with," Sakura started to become more lovely when talking about the possibility. "It always takes place when we're asleep, and whenever we wake up we feel as if we've never slept— as if we were sent to a different world _entirely._ But then it begs the question on why the Metaverse drips into this place… and I have a vague idea."

Sakura stands up from the bench and looks at the ceiling and witnesses the small drippings of red and black falling off. As soon as it detaches itself from the roof, it disappears into the air.

"I think this world is the barrier between the Metaverse and reality. It blends corrupt human desires and reality together in the form of nightmares. I think this is where all of that data is loaded."

Akechi breathed shakily. A world that has always existed, but has never truly been understood until now. "…That would explain a lot, but why now? Not only is the idea of it outlandish, but that this place controls _all_ of our nightmares?"

"Well, everything this past year has been crazy, so why _not_ believe this? It's like we're in an RPG!"

"If I had an _actual_ RPG right I'd shoot this place down."

"Not _that_ RPG… But whatever. We're stuck here until our time in this place runs out. Ooh, we can trademark this place and name it!"

"Name it _what…?"_ Akechi was ready for a dumb name to come out of her mouth. The way her eyes sparkled about naming and trademarking an entire world frightened him.

"'The Hidden Realm'!"

"Yeah, that's stupid."

Sakura pouted and strutted over to where he was sitting and screeched in his face. "What?! It sounds _super_ cool! What, do _you_ have any bright ideas, ace detective?"

"…No?"

"Then we're going with 'The Hidden Realm'! C'mon, admit that it sounds _kinda_ cool! It sounds like an AAA video game title…!"

"I'd rather die."

"Of course you would, Akechi… You're no fun." Sakura sighed and sat down next to him. Akechi and Sakura looked at each other in the eyes. She had something to say, but she didn't know how to say it. Akechi swallowed his saliva.

He did also.

A train hadn't passed by in a while, so the area was just filled with the buzzing of the lamp and their breaths.

Sakura kept looking at him anxiously, moving between looking down at her thumbs as she fiddled them and back up to his eyes. Akechi couldn't handle the insanely awkward situation of her doing that.

"Just… Just _say_ it already. I know what you want to ask, but you'll have to say it to me for me to respond, dumbass."

Sakura jolted and cleared her throat, but it was still raspy when she said such strong words in a quiet voice.

"I hate you."

That much was obvious. Even if they tried to avoid the tension between them, there was no point in denying their true feelings for each other.

Sakura continued vehemently, trying to keep her composure. "I know that you killed my mom. That you killed her because you were ordered to… I want to hate you, but it's hard. It's hard to hate you when I know you're being used by adults, just like how we were…"

"I killed your fucking mom, why the hell are you forgiving me?"

Sakura shook her head and brought her legs up to her body. She wrapped her arms around them and muttered. "Even I don't know why."

"…I don't expect forgiveness from you. This isn't necessarily an _apology_ either— Your mom loved you a lot. Enough to make my job not mean a single thing…" Akechi laughed to himself, the memory of what had happened played through his mind. "Isshiki Wakaba was quite a stellar person."

"You don't have to say that she's amazing in front of me— I already know that she's a level one-hundred boss and we're all measly level tens, but _why_ are you telling me this?"

"Do you want to know the truth?" Akechi asked her. He turned his whole body to her, his legs stretching across the bench. He was careful to not touch her with them. "It could either ruin your entire being or make you feel even better."

"…I've learned to stop hiding from the truth. Even if it hurts… I have to know. Tell me."

Akechi sighed. "You really _are_ like her. Well, if you want to know, then I'll say a single sentence." He cleared his throat, waiting for the panicked expression on Sakura's face to appear.

"She did kill herself; but not for the reason you'd think someone would kill herself."

Her panicked face flooded with dread and fear. Yeah, that was the expression he was searching for. It wasn't very nice to look at. "H-huh…? M-Mom… S-she…? W-wait, but it's not how I _think_ why she'd do it…?"

"Let me continue, Sakura," Akechi cleared his throat, "this is _very_ important information."

"Back when I was ordered to invade Isshiki Wakaba cognition, it was on the order of a psychotic breakdown; _not_ a mental shutdown. When I pulled it off and caused her to go insane, it was expected for her to attack everyone around her before her brain function stopped."

Akechi saw the pistol in his hand when he pointed it at Wakaba's face. That pistol that pierced through her head kept her alive, but her body was slowly being eaten away as insanity overcame all of her functions.

"But that woman is _crafty._ She could feel that she was going to die; she could feel that she was going to lose herself. So she did what she had to do to protect you and everyone around her; she ran in front of a car to kill herself." Akechi dusted his hands off and stared at Sakura's stunned expression. "And that's how her pitiful story ends."

Sakura was silent. Akechi couldn't tell what she was thinking. Anger? Sadness? He didn't know what emotions were swarming in those dark eyes of her. Akechi probably should've stopped talking. He probably should have let her rest after he had beaten a dead horse, but something in his mind kept screaming at him.

_"Make her hate you even more."_

"She could've done anything else during that period: hide and run away, scream for help, but no. She chose the only thing she could think of while she had those last moments of consciousness and decided to end her life," Akechi kept spurring her on. Hate him. Hate him until you can't handle it and you leave him alone; despise him so much that he feels like he's finally accomplished something because if he can't make it so that people like him, he might as well do his best so people hate him. "I think that people who try to commit suicide are weak. They're weak because they're pitiful, they're pitiful because they think they have nobody else. That's what's truly pitiful."

"You're wrong… G-Goro, you're _so_ wrong… M-Mom didn't kill herself because she was _any_ of those things… She did it because she was strong enough to give up her own life to save others… Even if it was in the spur of the moment, she did the best that she could…" Futaba cried. "That's why I won't let you say those things about her…!"

Goro stared at her teary eyes filled with passion. Why doesn't she despise him yet? _What the hell?_ He's doing everything he can and yet she still has the heart to believe in him? Goro laughed. "…You really don't understand, _do you?"_

"Understand? What do I need to _understand?_ All I need to know is that you're wrong…"

"…This is the one thing that I know I'm not wrong about."

Goro heard the shaking of a bell and the banging of a drum. He shoved his hands in his pockets. Now that he realized it, he hadn't changed out of his sweatpants and shirt for a while now. "It's time now. I won't see you again after this. It's the last time we'll meet, I hope you know."

"…Not if I can help it. I still hate you, but I'll… I'll find you again!" Futaba closed her eyes, trying to fight away sleep. It got louder. Louder and louder. Her voice became distant.

He wasn't sure if she caught what he said before they drifted away from The Hidden Realm, but the look of terror on her face said everything.

"All you'll find is a corpse."

* * *

Akechi trashed his phone when he woke up. He took his briefcase and slammed it against his phone, smashing it into tiny pieces of glass. The small bits of it coated his tatami mat and sunk itself deep into the straw. He didn't want to be found. He _refused_ to be found.

Akechi coughed, leaning down to pick up the scraps of what his phone used to be. Shido wouldn't be able to contact him with his phone, either. It seemed like a win-win situation, but something told him that he might've made the wrong decision.

Akechi's fever was still annoyingly persistent; he couldn't focus on anything. His goal, his feelings, _everything._ It was like a pile of mush in his brain.

He wiped at his runny nose. And then he looked at his hand.

_It was red._

When he looked down at the floor, drops of blood fell onto the tatami mat that he had just cleaned up. Akechi touched underneath his nose again. It was warm and drippy. Akechi sniffled and kept his hand under his nose. "…Shit."

Akechi snatched the toilet paper from his bathroom and held it up to his nose. When he came out to clean the tatami mat, he knew it could barely do anything. It was permanently stained, but he tried his best. He felt bad if he just left it like that.

He felt weak. Something was wrong with him, _very_ wrong with him. He's getting progressively worse and worse as he keeps visiting that realm. It has to be _more_ than nightmares if he's getting like this. Maybe he's getting sick just because of his lack of sleep? But Akechi has done _multiple_ all-nighters and he never got sick (he was just unbearably tired), so what was making him sick?

The only answer could be the Hidden Realm, but he didn't have the evidence to prove it.

Akechi coughed and held a hand to his forehead. It was burning.

Two wads of toilet paper were uncomfortably shoved up his nose. He needed to find a way out of this _fast_ or he'd never complete what he set out to do.

It was the 1st of December. Like yesterday, it was snowing outside. Akechi wanted to go outside and feel the coolness on his skin, even though it would make him feel worse— but something was telling him to go outside and see the snow. Just a small bit. Just a little bit.

Akechi threw on layers of clothing and stood outside his door. _Outside._ Outside of his house and into the world.

It was freezing cold when he shut the door behind him. The cold air was already nipping the skin on his nose. Frost and small bits of snow fell delicately from the sky, gracing the dull and grey palette of the town. December was always gloomy; a seasonal depression if will.

Akechi rested his arms on the metal railing of his apartment. It kept him from falling two stories down. They were frozen over and he could feel it radiating through his clothing.

Tokyo was quiet to him right now. He could hear the chattering, the loud cars, yet it still felt quiet to him.

 _"Is this what peace feels like? Acceptance?"_ Akechi asked himself. He sighed, his breath showing in the cold air as he shoved his hands into his pocket and felt something that he completely forgot that was there.

Cigarettes. The lighter was in there as well. It was so long ago that he forgot he picked them up from the train station. He picked them out of his pockets and rolled them in his gloved hands.

And then Akechi had a sudden realization

A realization that somebody was there in that train station before he was in there.

_"Somebody left these there."_

A chill went up his spine. He opened the cigarette container and saw that it was full except for a single missing cigarette. When he looked at the orange lighter, unused and clean, he wondered _why_ there was a single cigarette that was taken out. What purpose would somebody have to use a single cigarette, but not use any of the lighter fluid?

It didn't make any sense.

Akechi scratched his head. It was mind-boggling to him. He held the lighter in front of him and flicked back the small wheel on it and pressed down the black hinge on it, a small fire burning in front of his eyes. It was small and tiny, trying to survive in a cold climate.

It was entertaining to see it try to maintain itself. Flickering from the cold winds, drying out from the moist air, and yet it still breathed.

Akechi was getting tired of how it tried to stay alive despite how cold it was. It tried so hard even though it was faced with an impossible situation. He didn't know why he was so angry— it was just a small flame. A tiny, insignificant fire that he started. To end his odd anger, he put it out himself.

He breathed in the cold air hoarsely, his throat coated in phlegm as he blew the flame out.

Its small bit of warmness shriveled up and died.

* * *

The train felt dangerous. It was shaking uncontrollably. Cobwebs were everywhere, laying their mark on every inch of the cart. The paint in the seats was scraped, all of the metal was rusted, the air was freezing…

His illness was peaking. Whenever he came to this place his pain was always somewhat subsided, but now it _hurt._ Breathing hurt, moving hurt, trying to speak hurt, everything was painful.

He rasped and coughed. He held onto a rusted bar in the train that scratched away the skin on his hands, drawing blood every time the train shook violently. Akechi flinched when it kept digging into his skin, piercing into it like a needle. Maybe he should've kept his gloves on before he went to sleep. He was wearing grey baggy pants and a black long-sleeved shirt to keep him warm when he came here.

He could hear the screeching of the metal tracks. He felt the train _leaning._

 _"Oh shit!"_ Akechi felt the train turning over on its side. They weren't even _close_ to the station but the train was already about to crash. Akechi took his hands off of the bar and ran towards one of the doors as the train leaned to the left. He latched into the area where the doors meet and struggled to pry them away from each other to create an exit.

His forearms were aching, his heart was racing, he felt like he was going to blackout at any second. When he opened it enough, he could see the yellow sparks flying up into the air as the train tilted faster and faster. He needed to jump out, _now._

"Agh—! C-c'mon, o-open!" Akechi screamed. It hurt his throat, but he needed to let it all out to summon his strength. Pull through, get it together, _you haven't done what you've set out to do._

He pried it open and forced himself out of the small gap he created. He was almost grateful that he hadn't been eating much for the past week. He slipped through and stared at the sparks. This could kill him. No, this would _definitely_ kill him if he didn't land correctly.

The train shuddered again. Now or never, now or never, _just fucking jump—_

Akechi tumbled out of the door and covered the back of his neck with his hands as his body slammed on the ground. The metal rails slammed into his back and made him cry out in pain, but he couldn't stop there. The train screeched and slammed on its side, continuing to create chaos as it broke the walls of the tunnel and skidded.

Akechi contained his scream, the hot sparks spraying on his face as he tucked in his legs to prevent them from being severed by the wheels of the train. He heard it scream before slamming itself into the wall at an incredible speed.

Rock and rubble flew from the area the train was and slammed into his body at high speeds, forming small cuts of his exposed skin. It was a violent sound, the creaking of metal and glass shattering.

When he opened his eyes, the train was on its side with a large gaping hole inside of the stone of the tunnel. The train was halfway out of the hole, slowly sinking into the depths.

Akechi swallowed his saliva. What was beyond this tunnel…? He could only see a black hole spanning out of the hole.

Akechi could feel the burns on his face. He slowly sat up and carefully tried to avoid all of the broken glass on the floor. His feet were bare, so this was the worst possible thing.

"Tch…!" He couldn't stop pieces of glass from entering his feet. Akechi wanted to take it out of his feet, but there was way too much glass around him. He would rather not risk tripping because his feet wouldn't be the only thing filled with glass.

He slowly inched towards the hole that the smoking train was hanging out of. When he got closer and closer until—

"W-what the hell…? What the _hell…?"_

Outside of the tunnel walls was an empty black void. The train creaked and hung over the dark abyss. Beyond this train station, beyond this tunnel with tracks and stone, there was _nothing._

Akechi saw the long train, stretching endlessly into the void. It was shaking, and then it started to pull itself down from the weight.

Akechi yelled and backed up as fast as possible and more pieces of glass lodging themselves into his feet. He watched the train crumple into the black void. It fell out of the hole, but it didn't make an impact. It just kept sinking into the abyss until it faded out of sight.

Would jumping down that hole lead back into the real world? Would it kill him instead? Or maybe it would lead him to an entirely different world from this one… 

_"I shouldn't know the answer,"_ Akechi thought to himself, _"and I never will."_

Akechi turned his back front the gash into the abyss and tiptoed around the glass. He had something else to worry about right now.

Once he had traveled far enough from the debris, he sat down to pick the glass out of his skin. It hurt to scream or speak in any way but the pain was almost unbearable. There was too much glass embedded into his body. It would take _forever_ to try and get all of these out with just his fingers.

He decided to just remove the ones in the soles of his feet. He could deal with everything else when he got to the station.

It seemed like it was walking forever. His vision was getting hazy and he was starting to stumble. He put his hand on the wall and grunt, slowly slumping to the ground.

 _"I'm losing too much blood…"_ Akechi looked behind him and saw his bloody footprints trailing behind him. The dark tunnel was barely lit up by the small lights on the wall and it made it difficult to know if he was getting any closer. He needed to keep moving.

 _"Well, say goodbye fabric…"_ Akechi ripped off the fabric of his sweatpants. They were more like shorts now. Akechi never had a problem with dealing with his wounds; he's been alone for some time now, it'd be odd if he didn't.

He wrapped it around his feet as tightly as possible. He could barely wiggle his toes underneath the mesh of fabric encasing him. Akechi pushed himself up and used the wall as support. He winced and cupped his hands when he put his hands on the wall. They were burnt from the sparks and cut from the glass. Today just wasn't his day… or would it be _night?_

He didn't know how long he was walking for, like usual. Would pocket watches work if he brought one here…? His phone refused to turn on here, but would a regular clock do the trick? He'd have to try it the next time he comes here.

_"The next time? I don't even want a fucking next time…"_

Akechi saw the wood of the station up ahead. It seemed to be a minute or so away, but he was finally there… Akechi sighed in relief.

It didn't last long.

Red painted the entire tunnel, and a loud creaking sound was coming from behind him. _A train was coming._

Akechi started running as fast as he could and screamed with a hoarse throat, hoping that somebody was already on the platform. It was getting closer and closer— he felt like he was going to die from the amount of adrenaline coursing through his veins.

"I-is anyone there?! Help— I need help to get up on the platform! It's too high up for me to climb!" Akechi yelled as he got closer and closer to the wood. He put his hands up and tried to land onto the flooring of it, but it didn't reach. His fingers clawed at the rough wood and tore away at his bleeding fingertips. The red light got stronger and stronger.

"Akechi-kun?!"

_"This is the worst possible situation."_

A girl with fluffed up hair peered down onto the tracks in fear. She looked at his cut-up face and gasped.

This was the worst person to be helping him. This was the worst person because he had killed her father just a few months ago— it was a fresh wound.

Yet she still outstretched her hand.

"Please, grab on! The train is coming!"

Akechi grit his teeth and grabbed onto her hand and took her rough hand. It was calloused from the work she did in the garden. She was rich, what was the point of working inside of a fucking garden…?

Akechi couldn't argue with it. She was saving his life right now, even though he didn't deserve her kindness right now.

And Okumura's eyes reflected that. As soon as Akechi took her hand, her red stare was pinpointed on his dirtied and wounded face. It was terrifying and it lacked any emotion. They were thinking the same thing when they looked at each other in the eyes, the train getting louder and louder as the room got redder and redder.

What's stopping her from leaving him to die here? Nobody would know, it's just the two of them. The only people that _would_ know are the thieves, but she could just lie and say that she couldn't save him and had gotten run over by the train. Even then, he might not even _die;_ they didn't know how death worked in this world.

The train creaked. It was right there, yet Okumura's expression changed. It was sad and hurt. She strained her arms and held onto his hands with a tight grip, her fingernails piercing into his skin.

Akechi sweats in his mad daze and put one leg up onto the platform.

"AH—!" Okumura screamed and yanked him as hard as he could.

The train rammed through.

Akechi breathed heavily as the train sped by, leaving a flurry of sparks in its wake. The train was bound to crash after passing by the station. He could barely breathe or think, but the words flowed out of his mouth.

"W-why did you—" Akechi cleared his throat. "Why did you save me…? You could've just k-killed me…"

Okumura was on the ground, her legs bent outwards, her arms perching her up from falling forwards.

She looked at Akechi with a relieved expression. Her long white skirt flowed from beneath her as she gracefully settled down. Her pajamas were elegant— a white cotton nightgown covered her body and wrinkled at every single spot. It _would've_ been white, but it was dirtied by his blood.

"…I'd like to believe that I'm not like that. I wouldn't take my revenge in that way… It isn't me," Okumura told him simply.

Akechi didn't bother moving, nor did Okumura expect for him to move from his spot. She quietly inched over to Akechi and leaned him upwards into her lap, his head resting on her pressed together thighs.

Okumura frowned as she turned his face gently left and right to inspect his condition. "It seems like your repeated visits here haven't been well for your health…"

She ripped off the skirt of her nightgown and she was left with the top and a pair of shorts. She carefully blotted away the blood and wrapped it up with the cloth. "I know it isn't very good or very clean, but it's the best I can do… I apologize…"

"I can't imagine apologizing to your father's murderer," Akechi sighed. "Don't you want to kill me? I'm weak and I can't fight, so what's stopping you from wrapping your hands around your throat?"

Okumura put Akechi's head on her lap and stayed silent. She didn't know how to bring it up; the subject was too intense to even bring it up in a comfortable way, so she stayed quiet. She didn't need words to comfort someone in pain. Even though Akechi was the cause of her sadness after her father's death, she couldn't bring herself to hate him with all of her being.

He looked like a child right now. A sad child that had never felt any love. Just like how she was— unloved and unwanted, a toy for political gain.

Okumura smoothed Akechi's hair off of his forehead, but some of the strands were stuck straight on it from the dried blood. She used another piece of her gown to wipe it off. "Two wrongs do not make a right. I cannot bring myself to hurt others when I know that they're in the same situation as me."

"The same situation? What would you know about me?"

"Because we're similar. We both have parents that never really loved us like we wanted them to. We always feel empty because of that."

"…" Akechi huffed through his nose and looked up at her face. She was hanging above her silently. He didn't understand why she was caressing him and tending to his wounds. It's like she wanted him to feel this pain in his heart, the overwhelming emptiness and hatred was killing him slowly. "It's gross… You're _gross._ If you want me to hurt, stop trying to care about me. All of you piss me off. You're all hypocritical…"

"You keep saying that, but I can't just leave you alone. I… I can't let you suffer just like I did," Okumura kept caressing his head and playing with his hair. Her touch felt warm and he hated every single thing about it. "I know what you said to Futaba-chan. And I'm— I'm scared that—"

"So that's what it is."

Akechi slapped off her hand and sat up, grunted in pain. The warm blood that flowed out of the soles of his feet screamed at him to sit back down and rest, but he didn't listen. When did he ever care about his health? "So that's what it is, yeah? _Pity?_ Your fucking pity? Your hatred for me has turned into pity because you figured out that I don't plan on living long?"

"I—"

"No. Shut the _fuck up._ Right now," Akechi screamed at her even though it hurt his throat and looked at her with disdain, "you're trying to convince me to not take my own life by showing me fake kindness."

Okumura yelled at him in defense, "That's _not_ it! I don't want you to hurt anymore! The reason why you're thinking irrationally like this is because you're _hurting!_ We're all the same… We've all been taken advantage of by the adults that are around us, but while all of us found each other, you're actively pushing us away!" She kept yelling at him. "Why? Why do this to yourself?! You have _us_ so why do you keep pushing us away?"

"I've already fucked up! T-the reason why I'm alive— the reason why I was _born_ was all to take down that man! That pitiful sack of shit! Your father and Shido are the same; I don't care if they die! I'll _gladly_ take their lives away!"

"Stop it!" Okumura covered her ears. "Stop it… Just _stop…_ You keep lying to yourself, but you have an _option._ Don't just die and run away from everything… Your life is much more meaningful than that. S-so please… please don't take your life… I don't know what I'll do now that I know you plan to die…"

Akechi saw her sobbing tears. _Tears?_ She was sad that the death of someone would be in her conscience or that she was sad that he would specifically die.

"…This is the path I chose. I don't deserve friendship. I don't deserve _love._ I've done so many bad things in life that there would be no other way to repay them unless I died."

"It's not your fault."

"Yes, it is."

"It is _not."_ Okumura walked up to him and pushed him to sit down on the ground. Bloody footprints were all over the ground, and it stained her pure white clothing again. "You pulled the trigger, but somebody was orchestrating it. They took you as a puppet to excuse their actions… you should pay for what you've done, but this isn't the right way."

"Then what is? The only acceptable way would be if I die."

"…Live."

Akechi's words got caught in his throat. He couldn't breathe, it was suffocating him. The look that she was giving him was like a brand that etched into his skin, never to be repaired again.

"Live to pay for what you've done. You don't have the right to take your own life. Live to make up for your crimes." Okumura told him. "You have to live with a purpose. If you complete that purpose, find a new one, and continue that until you grow old and die. There's no other way to repay it. Going to prison to suffer isn't an option either; prison wouldn't be enough for you. Help others. That's the only way to repay for your crimes."

"You're trying to kill me like this. Trying to make me feel like my life has meaning. I killed your dad yet you're telling me I'm not trash enough to suffer in jail or die a death I see as honorable," Goro coughed. "Just… Just shut up."

Haru sighed and put her hands on his shoulder before awkwardly wrapping them around his neck and hugged him close. "I will never forget what you've done. I don't think I ever will, but… forgiveness is earned. Don't die until you've made it up to the people you've hurt."

"…I'm sorry."

Haru laughed at Goro's soft demeanor. Maybe she shouldn't be supporting him like this or helping him get back on his feet, but she couldn't stand his face. That face filled with nothing but hate and suffering. She couldn't let him live like that. Nobody deserves to die.

"Please, apologize to me when I see you alive… Change your heart. Change yourself."

The bells rang inside of his ears and the drum's tempo got faster and faster. Change his heart…? He didn't know how to do that or him to help himself. It was an impossible request.

Before they both fell asleep while holding each other close, Haru whispered something into his ear. He wouldn't forget. Ah, it seems he had been taking her innate kindness lightly… because what she was doing wasn't out of kindness.

"Your punishment is being unable to get what you want."

It was her _revenge._

* * *

Akechi woke up dazed and confused. His breathing was slow and his head was pulsating.

Blood dripped down his nose and stained his white sheets as he slowly pushed himself up. Akechi put his hand to his nose and smeared it away.

Akechi needed to burn that place to the ground. It felt like his mind was going to shut down if he continued to enter that hellish place.

Akechi stumbled out of his futon and coughed into his hand. Bloodstained his palm.

_"It can't be… I… It shouldn't be like this…"_

Akechi heaved and slowly made his way to his jacket that was spread out lazily against the floor. He dug through the pockets and brought out the lighter and the box of cigarettes.

After he took it with shaky hands that were as white as paper, he weakly pushed open his closet. His vision started to go black from the pain he was feeling. His heart felt like it was going to explode and his brain was melting. The blood from his nose dripped down his chin and it stained the floor every time he adjusted his body in any way. The inside of his mouth tasted like iron and his conscience was weighing him down.

 _"I need to… reach for the gas can…!"_ Akechi desperately reached out for the red can inside of his closet. He grabbed it by the handle and sighed in relief. His body collapsed onto the tatami and broke the delicate strips of straw that were holding it together. Akechi was now unable to move or sustain himself; just like a corpse.

He knew he was going to go back to that place. It was time to get rid of it once and for all.

His vision went completely black and when it started to clear up again, vague shapes began to dance around. The roughness of his broken tatami was replaced by the hardness of wood and the warmness of his room was now cold. Luckily, he still felt the plastic handle of the gasoline container in his hand and the cigarettes and lighter that was stuffed in his pants pocket.

Akechi coughed again, spewing blood onto the wood. His nose kept dripping and it couldn't stop. He was going to die if this continued. He couldn't let this continue any longer, it was far too painful—

He picked himself up and swallowed his bloody mucus and leaned up against the wall. He needed to wait for the train to stop to see if anybody else was going to come.

It was too long. His eyes were shutting close, slowly and painfully.

_"Stay awake stay awake stay awake stay awake stay awake stay awake—"_

The train stopped, but Akechi's eyes were already closed. He was still conscious and alive, but everything was muddled and empty. He could hear the distant screeching of a train and a harsh footstep onto the wood.

It was nonchalant and relaxed, and the sound slowly got louder and louder, even though the ringing in his head drowned it out by a landslide.

And then he heard it.

"You're not allowed to die yet, Akechi."

Akechi was wide awake.

It wasn't real. It couldn't be real.

Those piercingly cold grey eyes that said everything yet nothing at all, his pale skin that made him look like a vampire, and his bruised and imperfect skin that he hated oh so much.

Akechi's mind cleared and all of his symptoms disappeared as soon as the trill in his voice escaped from within.

"No… You… You're supposed to be dead…" This was his punishment, this was his hell. All of his sins were looking at him in that one stare.

"I'm not though. Come on, look at my face," he said before he crouched down. He didn't have any glasses, his features were raw and ripe. His long eyelashes were falling when his eyelids did. He could feel the heat of his breath on his skin.

"…This is my punishment for killing you, isn't it? I'm seeing things and suffering like this because I killed you. Kurusu, _I—"_

Kurusu latched onto his wrist and Akechi winced at the touch. His hands were cold as always. More importantly, Kurusu was touching Akechi's blood-covered hands. These were the same hands that he had pointed at his head. The thought of it made him quiver in fear.

Is this real…? He couldn't tell anymore. He couldn't tell the difference between reality and dreams.

Akechi was repulsed by Kurusu's touch yet he craved it at the same time. His rough hands rubbed against the skin of his wrists and blood was smudged onto the younger boy's hands.

"It'll take a bit of explaining, but I'm here to tell you. I'm sure you have a lot of questions, but we have a lot of time here so I can answer them all—"

Akechi wrenched his hand away from Kurusu's touch. _"Leave._ Just don't talk to me. Die for all I fucking care."

Kurusu put his head down, seemingly in defeat, but his body started to tremble and his chest heaved.

He was laughing.

"God, you're such a tsundere! But that's what makes you _you._ A son of a bitch bastard child that _obviously_ has too much time to think." Kurusu lifted his other hand and put his index thumb and finger together. "You're so _stupid."_

Kurusu flicked him on the head.

Akechi let go of Kurusu's hand and caressed his sore forehead. The nonchalant and joking attitude, a free-spirited person that didn't give two shits on what others thought of him… The stinging on his head told him all he needed to know.

He was _alive._

"Explain…" Akechi tried to keep calm, but his voice shook. "Explain to me how the _fuck_ you're alive."

"Well…"

And Kurusu told him. Starting from the beginning and answering any questions that Akechi had for him along the way.

Akechi was exasperated.

 _"Pancakes…_ You're only alive because I mentioned _pancakes…"_

Kurusu gloated and flaunted himself. "Hey, it was a pretty good catch. I'm pretty smart, aren't I?"

"Oh yes, you have _such_ intelligence it blows me away. Please marry me and have my children…" Akechi looked at his pale face again. He saw every blemish on his textured skin. Every pore, every vein, every breath that he took.

He really was alive. Alive and in the flesh. No bullet in his head, no blood running down his head, no lifeless eyes… It was _him._

Akechi slumped onto Kurusu and took heaving breaths. Kurusu instinctively kept his arms up and away from Akechi's body, but he slowly relaxed and wrapped his arms around him. Even though Akechi was taller than him, he looked like such a kid right now.

"There, there, Akechi. Daddy's here for— …Akechi?"

Kurusu felt something wet stain his long-sleeved grey shirt. It kept dripping on his chest and Akechi couldn't stop shaking, but he was silent through it. He put his head closer into Kurusu's comfort, hiding his face away to save himself from the embarrassment of crying.

Akechi felt cold. So _cold._

Kurusu sighed and caressed his back tenderly. "Seriously, you're making me feel like I'm _actually_ a parent right now." Kurusu then patted him harshly on the back; it was almost like a slap. He didn't know how to deal with Akechi like this. The only thing that Kurusu thought he was good at was cracking jokes until the situation cleared out, but right now he didn't feel like laughing. "Cry it out. I'm alive and you're alive. That's all that matters right now."

Akechi managed to say to him with a choked out voice filled with relief. "Thank god you're alive… Jesus fucking Christ Akira…"

"…I'm glad you're alive too, Goro."

"God, I'm a fucking mess. Don't look at me or I'll set you on fire," Goro told him as he slowly pushed himself off of Akira's test. It sounded like a threat but Akira knew better. He closed his eyes as Goro wiped away his tears, smoothing them away with soaked sleeves. "I'm covered in my own blood, I look disgusting. Hey, you can open your eyes now."

Akira opened his eyes again and Goro was right; he did look like shit. His shirt and pants were stained in his blood, the top of his lip and his chin weren't saved from it either.

"Well, now that you know I'm alive… Come by Leblanc tomorrow. We can beat Shido together," Akira offered. "You don't have to fight this alone. He's the person pulling all of the strings, and we're going to need to be all together to take him down. His Palace is rough."

"Wait, you're already infiltrating his Palace…?"

"Don't avoid the question. You should've known by now that we were going to take him down."

Goro was silent. The opportunity was right in front of him. A new start, a new step forward, a bright new day. His revenge could be different. It could be harsh and cruel, but he wouldn't have to get his hands dirty ever again. He wouldn't have to cause pain again with these hands.

"…Do I deserve this, Akira? You know what I've done, _right?_ I've murdered people and I would've gotten away with yours if you didn't catch on. You would be a corpse by now if you slipped up," Goro kept rambling on and on about why this was insane of him to ask. _"Why_ do keep fighting for me? What's the purpose?"

"I don't need a purpose," Akira said before wincing. "Actually, I _do_ have a purpose—"

"I fucking knew it. You're just here to take advantage—"

"You didn't let me _finish—_ " Akira groaned. "Everyone deserves to feel at peace with themselves. Everyone that's confessed felt at peace with themselves because their guilt got too strong and they admitted their crimes. They'll feel guilt for the rest of their lives knowing what they did, but at least they know that they're getting their punishment. _You_ deserve to be at peace."

"I don't _deserve_ it."

"But do you want it?"

God, yes. God yes did he want it, more than Akira could imagine. Being able to finally live for once is something that he could only dream of.

Akira stared straight through him and looked at the contents of his distorted heart. "…You already have your answer, don't you?"

"I want to be— No, I _need_ to be free," Goro said. "Take me with you. I want to know what it's like to feel at peace."

"You made the right decision, buddy," Akira put his arm around Goro's shoulder and smiled at him. "Welcome back to the team."

"It feels nice to be back, but I'm scared of looking at the rest again."

"Don't worry, I'm sure they don't feel bitter towards you… Well, _most_ of them."

"That's _soooo_ fucking reassuring, Akira. Thanks, jackass."

"Well, what's _less_ reassuring is this place." Akira looked at the jerry can at Goro's side. "I think I know what you're planning on doing."

"Want to help me?" Goro stood up and tossed the can to Akira and he caught it effortlessly. The boy opened it up with an evil grin and looked at Goro. He was smirking.

"Of course I do."

Akira drenched the floorboards with gasoline and stood back, watching Goro as he took out the lighter and cigarette box.

"That box… It's familiar. I've used that lighter and cigarette box when I was in my nightmare," Akira muttered. Goro looked at him with wide eyes as he held the flame underneath the plastic of the box, watching it quickly light up along with all of its contents.

"So you were the one that used this, huh? That's one mystery solved…" Goro stayed silent and clenched the burning box in his hands. "Once this is done, I can't go back. I have to continue with my life."

"I hope you _do_ continue with your life, stupid," Akira laughed. "Do the honors. You deserve this more than anyone."

"Damn right I do. Yeah… Fuck this place."

Goro tossed it onto the gasoline. As soon as it touched the liquid, it burst into flames. The fire started to spread onto all of the food, crisping it until it was gone for good. The benches that he had spent so much time sitting on, the lamp that failed to work properly, the station's sign that he still couldn't read. In a moment, this would all be gone.

"It feels sort of nostalgic to say goodbye to this place. I'm almost sad… _Almost,_ but not quite." Goro looked longingly into the scorching fire. If he took a step closer, it'd burn his skin right off. "So this is it. It's _finally_ over."

"Let's hope that this place stays burnt. I've figured out that this place doesn't just control nightmares— this place is death itself. Illnesses, natural disasters, mental shutdowns; this place controls it all. It's the connection from the living world to the dead."

"Then this place should be called 'Hell' more than 'The Hidden Realm', right? It isn't exactly hidden anymore. It _is_ burning right in front of my eyes." Goro looked as the smoke and ash flew towards their faces. They were standing at the edge of the train station while the flames overtook the other end.

"Tomorrow— Well when you wake up in reality— come to Leblanc. I'll be waiting for you there with the rest." They looked into each other's eyes. Goro knew that this would finally be the end, but the memories of his place wouldn't leave, because even if it's painful, these painful memories would help him move forward with life.

The bells chimed in his head. The drums were beating as the fire roared and drenched the station in a harsh red color. Akira held his hand out to Goro.

"This isn't the end yet. After all, you _did_ promise to beat me after you gave me your glove. I can't have you failing to fulfill your promise. That would _suck."_

Goro took Akira's hand and snorted. "This time I'll beat you, too. You and your stupid fucking team, I'll all beat you fair and square one day so you don't look down on me."

Akira laughed. They held their hands together as the chiming got louder.

"I'll see you there, Goro"

"…I'll see you there, Akira."

* * *

Goro woke up.

He didn't feel sick, he didn't feel like he was suffering. For the first time in his life, he felt at peace. He didn't know what it meant, but that was the only way he could describe it when he shoved off the blankets and washed his face in his bathroom sink. The cigarette box, lighter, and jerry can were gone. The only proof that they ever existed was his memories of why it was there.

He washed the blood off, the feeling of Akira's cold hand still lingered on his skin. He pulled on a scarf and winter coat and stared at the door before opening it. He was going to head to Leblanc for the first time in a while.

He was scared.

When he stepped outside into the snow he felt warm, save for his left hand.

He took the same train as usual that morning. It was December 4th, at nine o'clock in the morning, and the weather was foggy. A thick blanket of cold fog covered Tokyo. It felt like an omen of sorts, but Goro wanted to believe that today was going to be a good one.

Tokyo was bustling with people as he switched stations until he was at Yongen-Jaya. They were laughing and smiling, oblivious to what was going to happen when Shido became Prime Minister. They would be able to stop it, but even though he referred to them as a whole and hoped that they would accept him, he couldn't stop thinking about what would happen if he stepped through that door.

He traded through the connection of small streets and stared down a familiar alleyway. For the small alleyway, the scent of freshly brewed coffee wafted all the way down to where Goro was standing. The scent of belonging was in there, but the trembling in his hands told him that he wasn't meant to be there.

Goro was a second away from turning back. He was a second away from giving up and just returning to his apartment that was still stained with his blood.

He looked at the canopy above the café and moved his shaking legs. Every step felt like an eternity. His brain was destroying itself the closer he got to the door, screaming at him and filling his mind with made-up scenarios on what would happen if he walked inside.

When his gloved hands wrapped around the door handle, Goro took a deep breath. There was no turning back.

He opened the door.

The smell of coffee and curry was comforting. It was strong, but he didn't mind it. That's what made Leblanc special.

"I'm glad you came. I almost thought you weren't coming." Akira was behind the counter, pouring a cup of coffee elegantly.

They were all here, waiting for him… Futaba, Yusuke, and Ryuji were sitting in the stools while the rest of them were inside of the table booths. Morgana was lazing on top of one of the tables. His tongue was sticking out from when he had groomed himself, but he quickly shoved it back in his mouth and straightened his back. They all had a cup of coffee except for Futaba and Ryuji, who had hot chocolate instead of the bitter mixture.

Goro was wary. The atmosphere was awkward at best and tense at its worst. Haru and Makoto sat together and in front of them was Ann. Ann was sipping on her coffee, actively avoiding Goro's gaze while Haru and Makoto couldn't help but stare at him.

Goro swallowed his saliva. "Of course I would come. Your invitation was too good to pass up…" Goro sat down on one of the bar stools. He sat as far away from the others on the bar stools and Akira passed him the cup that he was just pouring into.

He missed this place. He really did.

"You don't have to be so detached from us, y'know? If we're going to make this work, we should be friends, right?" Ryuji turned his head over to him. Goro ignored his eyes and stared into his cup of coffee.

Goro sighed. "How could I bring myself to be your friend after all I've done? At most, we're colleagues."

"If anyone has a say in it, it's _me—_ and I think I can call you a friend, Goro. Just don't pull anything weird or I'll KO you!" Futaba chortled. "Oh, and Haru. Haru, what do you think?"

"…I'll be his friend, but on one condition:" Haru sat her cup of coffee into its coaster, "he isn't allowed to die until he's made up for all of his mistakes."

"That's rather outlandish… People can die at any time, Haru…" Ann laughed nervously.

"No, no. I understand what she means. I don't plan on dying anytime soon, so don't be worried," Goro assured them. "I plan on living for myself. I refuse to be controlled by anyone anymore, but I _suppose_ I'll accept this one command as an apology."

"You seem healthy. You got over your illness?" Makoto asked him.

"I got over my illness. It was getting worse; I was coughing blood and my nose was pouring it out. If I had spent another day there, I think I would've died," Goro sighed. The pain was unbearable. He didn't know how he managed to not die on that final day. He sat out of his seat and stared at all of them, standing in front of the door.

"If we're going to take down Shido, I need your help. I can't do it on my own at this point…" Goro bowed. "Please help me change his heart."

"You don't have to worry about that, Goro. We're already around half-way through the Palace. With your help, we can be done with it today!" Morgana mewled.

"That's right. The assistance of Crow would be quite helpful, especially if you decide to appear in your Black Mask outfit." Yusuke held up his hands and fingers into a picture frame, closing one eye and hovering it backward to center it on Goro's face. "I can't fathom what you look like."

"He probably has a black mask," Ryuji said.

"I think that'd be _obvious,_ Skull…" Morgana groaned. "But, as a formal welcome, let's give our new member a— A-Akira, what are you doing?!"

Akira left from behind the counter and wrapped his arms around Goro's body. Ann couldn't contain her laugh and quickly left her seat, wrapping her arms around Akira. "Group hug!"

Slowly, more of them started joining. Ryuji and Yusuke got up from their seats and hugged all of them. Makoto followed after, awkwardly scooting themselves into the pile. Futaba went in with them next, unsure if she should even be included, but made herself at home when Akira pulled her to his side. Haru took the longest to warm up, but she eventually left her seat and placed a hand on Goro's back. One of Goro's hands was stretching outside of the circle and, and even though Morgana couldn't join in, he outstretched his paw onto the one open hand.

Goro couldn't breathe because of how many people were hugging him and he was also sweating from how hot it was, but even with those two uncomfortable factors, it didn't feel that bad.

Goro closed his eyes and fell into the warmth of his friends' kindness.

At that moment, he could finally read what the station's name was. Goro couldn't help but say it out loud, his voice shook when he read the kanji in his mind. This was—

"…Kisaragi Station…?"

And then the warmth was gone.

Goro's eyes shot open and he realized that they were no longer hugging him. They were no longer wrapped around his body lovingly and defensively.

The café was drenched in a red color, the beating sound of a drum and the ringing of a bell. This was the loudest it had ever been.

The glass that led to the outside was completely black and light failed to shed inside. Goro's breathing got faster and faster when he got used to the darkness.

_He couldn't breathe._

"N-no, w-wait… Y-you have to be joking— G-guys? C-come on, it isn't funny—"

Their bodies were sprawled along the floor, tables, and counter. Goro couldn't tell where the blood was coming from because too much of it painted their bodies.

Their decaying bodies lacked any light in their eyes. Their corpses would be in his brain forever as well as the stench of rotting flesh.

The blood pooling from their bodies mixed and flowed onto the floor, creating an endless sea from the staircase to the front door.

The place where Goro stood was a perfect circle of no blood. Not a speck, not even a bit. His feet were untouched as if the place he stood was holy ground. Goro stared back at his reflection.

_He had a knife in his hand._

Goro raised his hands, completely drenched in blood. His gloves were covered in it, his sleeves were drenched in it. His entire body was covered in blood.

Goro dropped the knife, and suddenly the untouched circle was now flowing into the soles of his shoes.

Goro wretched. He wretched and his back hit the door. He stared at his friends left and right, realizing that this had to be fake. It just had to be.

The bells chiming and the beat of the drums quickened their pace.

He shut his eyes, praying and praying that this was a dream as the image of their bodies replayed in his mind over and over again.

Akira was toppled onto the counter. Cuts were over his entire body. His hands, his wrists, his face… he was drowning in it. His cold grey eyes were black, the color of his death and despair. His lips were painted red.

Ryuji's body was mangled beyond recognition, his limbs torn off and spread across the room. The only thing that could identify him was his hair color and his loud shirt.

Haru skin was impaled with pieces of broken glass from teacups and other pottery. It stabbed through her eye and dripped down his chin. _Drip, drip, drip._ It was fresh.

Makoto was impaled with multiple kitchen knives right into her stomach, a vivisection that sprawled her guts over the table she was stabbed on. Her eyes were in pain and shock. They were pointed at him when he looked at the body.

 _"Go back, go back, go back, go back, go back, go back—"_ Goro kept begging and begging, but he wouldn't wake up.

Yusuke's guys were strung up on the wall like an intricate piece of art. His body was an empty shell that drooled against the bloodied stool. His white clothing was completely red.

Futaba's neck was wrung. Her hands and feet were cut off and dried tears marks were covered by the endless sea of blood that sprouted around her.

Morgana's body was ripped to shreds. His fur was matted and ripped in half. His collar was broken from his neck and was laying on the floor, drenched in blood.

Ann's head wasn't on her body. Her beautiful head was torn off her beautiful body, leaving an incomplete human being.

Goro collapsed to his knees. Their blood seeped into his pants and he kept his head down.

He would die here.

He heard a pair of feet tread through the blood and speak to him. "Do you regret your actions?"

Goro raised his head and saw a girl with brown hair in a ponytail, tied up neatly. She had a mole near her left eye, her eyes a bright yellow. She looked like—

"Answer me. Do you regret your actions?"

"P-please bring me back— Please please please _please_ I can't live with myself like this—"

The girl in the ponytail smiled at him sweetly.

_"Then die."_

Goro closed his eyes. That's right. This is his punishment. He isn't allowed to be happy, he isn't allowed to feel loved and cared for. Such things were not needed, nor deserved.

And then a whisper in his head kept telling him he couldn't die. He made a promise. He made a promise and he couldn't break it.

"No… I can't die… I _refuse…"_ Goro opened his eyes and confronted the girl. She had a shocked look on her face at his opposition.

This wasn't real. This wasn't real. This wasn't real—

"Goro?"

Goro opened his eyes and gasped. They weren't around his body anymore, but Akira looked at him worriedly. "Hey, are you okay, Goro?"

Goro couldn't control his heavy breathing at first, but it calmed when he looked into all of their eyes. They were alive and well, breathing and there.

"Yeah, I'm fine…" Goro told them, but he knew he wasn't fine. He was far from it.

Now he was scared. Now he didn't know what to do. Now he didn't know what to say.

They all smiled at him, happy that he was all right but Goro kept telling himself over and over again when he looked at their smiles that something about it seemed off now— a crack in what reality would be, or at least he convinced himself that it was. On Akira's lips was a small dot of red liquid, which he quickly licked with his tongue.

Goro met his eyes and felt himself go cold at his friend's expression. His eyes were slanted and opposing, unkind, and unwelcoming before they turned back to their happy state.

_"Am I sure that this is real…?"_

**Author's Note:**

> this is probably gonna get beta read in the future so it's squeaky clean!!


End file.
